In Flanders Fields and Other Poems

<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"></SPAN></p> <br/> <h2> A Song of Comfort </h2> <p><i>"Sleep, weary ones, while ye may &mdash;<br/> Sleep, oh, sleep!"</i><br/> Eugene Field.<br/></p> <p>Thro' May time blossoms, with whisper low,<br/> The soft wind sang to the dead below:<br/> "Think not with regret on the Springtime's song<br/> And the task ye left while your hands were strong.<br/> The song would have ceased when the Spring was past,<br/> And the task that was joyous be weary at last."<br/> <br/> To the winter sky when the nights were long<br/> The tree-tops tossed with a ceaseless song:<br/> "Do ye think with regret on the sunny days<br/> And the path ye left, with its untrod ways?<br/> The sun might sink in a storm cloud's frown<br/> And the path grow rough when the night came down."<br/> <br/> In the grey twilight of the autumn eves,<br/> It sighed as it sang through the dying leaves:<br/> "Ye think with regret that the world was bright,<br/> That your path was short and your task was light;<br/> The path, though short, was perhaps the best<br/> And the toil was sweet, that it led to rest."<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />