 |
| Lens, France 25 December 1917 |
Christmas Bells in War Time
From spire and tower, in silvery tune,
The chimes like birds take flight.
Where that golden boat, the moon,
Drifts slowly down the night.
Aloud, alert, alone they cease
And wake these midnight bells,
Proclaiming, through their calmer, Peace
Where Peace no longer dwells.
Yet chime by chime, like homing birds,
They float, soar up, recede,
A gust of old-time gladdening words
That back to Sorrow lead.
For as we listen, bell by bell,
They bring about us here
Our hotly dead who sleep so well
We dare not dream them near.
So be still blithe, O Bells, and gay.
Since through the old glad sound
Our dead come home this Christmas Day
From grave strewn Flanders' ground!
Related posts:
No comments:
Post a Comment