A young soldier feels a quiet certainty that death awaits him in battle, and he treats it like a solemn appointment. Spring returns with rustling shade, apple-blossoms, and blue days, but for him the season only fixes the time of his promised end—at a disputed barricade, on a scarred slope, or in a flaming town at midnight. He briefly imagines love’s soft pillows and intimate breath, then sets that temptation aside without regret; his pledged word matters more than safety. The mood is steady, almost tender, as if he’s already at peace with the idea. The gentle spring imagery collides with war’s violence, yet the poem never feels desperate—just resigned and strangely lovely. Death isn’t a monster but a companion he’s agreed to meet. The repeated line “I have a rendezvous with Death” beats like a quiet heart, making his fate feel both intimate and inevitable.
I Have A Rendezvous With Death — Summary
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.
It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath— It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death On some scarred slope of battered hill When Spring comes round again this year And the first meadow-flowers appear.
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.