The dreamy rain comes down, And cotton's in the grass. The farmers all complain -- But I watch armies pass. . . . The ones that did not come From Ivoiry again Are marching down the road And whistling in the rain. The forty-two I saw In Olsene, prone and pale, With packs and helmets on Pass by me, young and hale. I hear their laughter plain -- Some blasphemous, quaint jest That livens up their step More than an hour's rest. They talk of Montfaucon, Of Thielt and Chryshautem; My cotton rows, it seems, Are turnip fields to them. It's hard to stay indoors With soldiers marching by. And if you've hiked and fought It's hard until you die. . . . . . Dim Flanders rain comes down, The cotton's in the grass; But I watch wistfully Gay phantom armies pass. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WILLOW POEM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM; FROM HER BOY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO - (4) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH PHILOCTETES: PHILOCTETES CALLS FOR DEATH by AESCHYLUS |