poem for a lonely horse

Based on when this was published, I imagine this was inspired by a soldier who never returned from the Great War. . . 

Wounded and Missing.

The old bay mare is standing
Facing the setting sun :—
The orchard grass waves round her
And her work is nearly done.

She waits for a loving whisper,
Pricking a silken ear,
For the sound of a dear familiar voice
Which she never more may hear.

There’s a joyful whinny to greet him,
Soft eyes that watch and wait :
For the old bay mare is standing
Beside the orchard gate.

The worn old hoofs are weary,
The loving eyes are dim,
And the master she loves will come no more,
But she’s waiting still for him.

by "F." in Newbolt, Henry John, Sir, 1862-1938, Mary Lancaster Nott, and Kohler Collection of British Poetry. Animal Poems And Stories. London: H. Rees, 1916. 30.