Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/178

 178 THREE HILLS

OWER of Ypres that watchest, gravely smiling,

Green marsh-meadows stretching far away,

With long thoughts of famous deeds beguiling

March unceasing of the ages grey,

Once beneath thee

Swayed the seaweed, churned and foamed the sea.

Fleet of Frenchman, fleet of Spaniard thundered,

Victor, vanquished, 'neath your little hill,

Gaily fearless if they fled or plundered,

You, who faced our foemen, face them still—

Now the reeds sigh,

Young lambs frolic where tall ships sailed by.