stillness of the trenches in the night, Where freezing men are crouching in the lull before the fight. Then for one the calm is broken by the rumble and the roar Of far-off Picadilly, and in dreams, as oft before, He sees her who wept at parting. What was that? A whining shell? Once a man—that huddled horror! He was smiling as he fell. Summer has returned to London. Now the Green Park gleams anew. Cheers and tears together mingle—but the breaking heart beats true. Blare of trumpet!—blood and fire!—so her hero marched away.[8] Happy lad and lass they parted—now the pitying sky is gray. Blood and fire! Through its heroes shall a nation live again. Blare of trumpet! But in silence aching hearts must bear their pain. Ah, the stillness of the trenches! ah, the rumble and the roar! Cheers and tears by England offered for the lads who come no more. 

[8]

1915

1915

SERBIA

SERBIA

 Serbia, valiant daughter of the Ages, Happiness and light should be thy portion! Yet thy day is dimmed, thine heart is heavy; Long hast thou endured—a little longer Bear thy burden, for a fair to-morrow Soon will gleam upon thy flower-spread valleys, Soon will brighten all thy shadowy mountains; Soon will sparkle on thy foaming torrents Rushing toward the world beyond thy rivers. Bulgar, Turk and Magyar long assailed thee. Now the Teuton's cruel hand is on thee Though he break thy heart and rack thy body, 'Tis not his to crush thy lofty spirit. Serbia cannot die. She lives immortal, Serbia—all thy loyal men bring comfort Fighting, fighting, and thy far-flung banner Blazons to the world thy high endeavor, —This thy strife for brotherhood and freedom— Like an air-free bird unknowing bondage, Soaring far from carnage, smoke and tumult, Serbia—thy soul shall live forever! Serbia, undaunted is, immortal! 

[9]

[9]

A CANADIAN TROOPER TO HIS HORSE

A CANADIAN TROOPER TO HIS HORSE

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