Like Brooke, a victim of the Hun, so Seeger, also a victim of the
barbarian, seemed to feel the constant presence of Death, an unseen
guest at the Feast of Youth and Joy and Fame and Love. Perhaps the war
made these two imaginative poets think of Death sooner than Youth
usually gives him heed. But most men will think of Death when they are
face to face with the shadow day and night as were these
soldier-crusading poets; when they see him stalking in every trench, in
every wood, on every hill and road, and in every field and village. But
how bravely he spoke of Death!--
"Learn to drive fear, then, from your heart.
If you must perish, know, O man,
'Tis an inevitable part
Of the predestined plan."
Poems by Alan Seeger.
And again in this same poem, "Makatooh," he sings of Death:
"Guard that, not bowed nor blanched with fear
You enter, but serene, erect,
As you would wish most to appear
To those you most respect.
"So die, as though your funeral
Ushered you through the doors that led
Into a stately banquet hall
Where heroes banqueted;
"And it shall all depend therein
Whether you come as slave or lord,
If they acclaim you as their kin
Or spurn you from their board."
Poems by Alan Seeger.
What a challenge this is to all who must die in this war, to all lads
who are giving their lives heroically in God's great cause of liberty
in his world--this challenge to die so that you may be welcomed into
the fraternity of heroes!
Without doubt Seeger's best-known poem, and one which illustrates also
most strongly his attitude toward Death, is that poem entitled "I Have
a Rendezvous With Death," from which we quote:
"I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade;
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple blossoms fill the air--
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
* * * * *
"God knows, 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear,...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town;
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous."
Poems by Alan Seeger.