Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/57

Rh Dust-hued and bloody your autumnal lives

That shrivel blasted by the breath of War,

And the bereavéd tree sad music weaves,

The Gardener gathers up your lives.

Those dead leaves waken in the weary earth,

Making the barren warm and rich with life,

And give to nobler flowers a glorious birth;

And your dead lives are dead alone in name,

For you shall live anew after the strife,

And light in future hearts a sacred flame.

Joy

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