An impression After Conversing with One.

You Devil Bleu, who saw Verdun
And madly fought the ravening Hun,
And lived amid death and thunder —
Bombs that smite and shells that sunder —
You — who wielded bavonet
Yet will not tell the blood you let —
Have seen the rolling eyes of death
And dying comrades gasp for breath,
Your home laid waste, annihilated,
Wife or sweetheart desecrated.

Your aura breathes the tale to me —
Yet you seem calm as calm as can be,
With tranquil mien, and eye serene,
That mirrors not the Hell you've seen.