Rhymes of a Red Cross Man

<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"></SPAN></p> <br/> <h2> The Lark </h2> <p>From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn,<br/> The guns have brayed without abate;<br/> And now the sick sun looks upon<br/> The bleared, blood-boltered fields of hate<br/> As if it loathed to rise again.<br/> How strange the hush! Yet sudden, hark!<br/> From yon down-trodden gold of grain,<br/> The leaping rapture of a lark.<br/> <br/> A fusillade of melody,<br/> That sprays us from yon trench of sky;<br/> A new amazing enemy<br/> We cannot silence though we try;<br/> A battery on radiant wings,<br/> That from yon gap of golden fleece<br/> Hurls at us hopes of such strange things<br/> As joy and home and love and peace.<br/> <br/> Pure heart of song! do you not know<br/> That we are making earth a hell?<br/> Or is it that you try to show<br/> Life still is joy and all is well?<br/> Brave little wings! Ah, not in vain<br/> You beat into that bit of blue:<br/> Lo! we who pant in war's red rain<br/> Lift shining eyes, see Heaven too.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />