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Full Online Book HomePoemsSpring In War-time
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Spring In War-time Post by :Bruce_Springste Category :Poems Author :Edith Nesbit Date :August 2011 Read :831

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Spring In War-time

Now the sprinkled blackthorn snow
Lies along the lovers' lane
Where last year we used to go -
Where we shall not go again.

In the hedge the buds are new,
By our wood the violets peer -
Just like last year's violets, too,
But they have no scent this year.

Every bird has heart to sing
Of its nest, warmed by its breast;
We had heart to sing last spring,
But we never built our nest.

Presently red roses blown
Will make all the garden gay . . .
Not yet have the daisies grown
On your clay.


(The end)
Edith Nesbit's poem: Spring In War-Time

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The Mother's Prayer The Mother's Prayer

The Mother's Prayer
This was my little sonWho leapt and laughed on my knee:Body we made with love,Soul made with love by Thee.This was the mysteryIn which I worshipped Thy grace;This was the sign to me -The unveiling of Thy face . . .This, that lies under Thy skiesNaked as on that dayWhen the floor of heaven gave wayAnd the glory of God shone through,When the world was made newAnd Thy word was made flesh for me . . .He lies there, bare to Thy skies,O Lord God, see!Body that was in mineA secret, sacred spell,Little hands I have kissedTrampled by beasts in Hell

The Fields Of Flanders The Fields Of Flanders

The Fields Of Flanders
Last year the fields were all glad and gayWith silver daisies and silver may;There were kingcups gold by the river's edgeAnd primrose stars under every hedge.This year the fields are trampled and brown,The hedges are broken and beaten down,And where the primroses used to growAre little black crosses set in a row.And the flower of hopes, and the flowers of dreams,The noble, fruitful, beautiful schemes,The tree of life with its fruit and bud,Are trampled down in the mud and the blood.The changing seasons will bring againThe magic of Spring to our wood and plain:Though the Spring be so green as never