Hédauville , poem by Roland Leighton to Vera Brittain The sunshine on the long white road That ribboned down the hill, The velvet clematis that clung Around your window-sill Are waiting for you still. Again the shadowed pool shall break In dimples at your feet, And when the thrush sings in your wood, Unknowing you may meet Another stranger, Sweet. And if he is not quite so old As the boy you used to know, And less proud, too, and worthier, You may not let him go--- (And daisies are truer than passion-flowers) It will be better so. I watched 'Testament of Youth' yesterday. The sense of loss still lingers when I woke up early on Sunday morning. One wrenching scene in the film depicts the return of the uniform Roland was wearing when he was shot. "For though he had only worn the things when living, the smell of those clothes was the smell of graveyards and the dead. The mud of France which covered them was not ordinary mud; it had not the usual cle