Page:Marching Men - War Verses (1917).pdf/29



H, not when April wakes the daffodils,
 * And bob-o-links o'er misty meadows ring
 * Their fluted bells, and orchards fleeced with Spring,

Go climbing up to crown the radiant hills; Not when the budding balm-o'-gilead spills
 * Its spices on the air, and lilacs bring
 * Old dreams to mind, and every living thing

The brimming cup with fresh enchantment fills.

Oh, bring not then the dread report of death,—
 * Of eyes to loveliness forever sealed,

Of youth that perished as a passing breath, Of hearts laid waste and agonies untold,
 * When here in every sweet Canadian field

Are heaped such treasuries of green and gold!