Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/119

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In the world's dim heart, where the waiting spirits slumber,

Sounded a roar when the walls were rent asunder

That parted Earth from Hell, and summoning them away,

Tremendous trumpets blew, as at the Judgment Day—

And the dead came forth, each to his former banner.

On the grim field of Flanders, the old battle-plain,

Their armies held the iron line round Ypres in the rain,

From Bixschoote to Baecelaere and down to the Lys river. Margaret L. Woods