A HANDFUL came to Seicheprey When winter woods were bare, When ice was in the trenches And snow was in the air. The foe looked down on Seicheprey And laughed to see them there. The months crept by at Seicheprey The growing handful stayed, With growling guns at midnight, At dawn, the lightning raid, And learned, in Seicheprey trenches, How war's red game is played. September came to Seicheprey; A slow-wrought host arose And rolled across the trenches And whelmed its sneering foes, And left to shattered Seicheprey Unending, sweet repose. |