Only the seasons and the years invade These quiet wheatfields where the Armies crashed, And mockingbirds and quail fly unafraid Within this forest where the rifles flashed. Here where the bladed wings of death have mown And gleaned their harvestry of golden lives, The fruitful seeds of corn and wheat are sown, And where the cannon smoked, an orchard thrives. Long are the war years over, with their pain, Their passionate tears and fury, and the sun Lies hot and yellow on the heavy grain, And all the fighting on these fields is done. But in their peace, the quivering heart recalls The youth that bled beside these old stone walls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ETERNITY BLUES by HAYDEN CARRUTH ALASTOR; OR, THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE TEARES OF THE MUSES by EDMUND SPENSER SIR GALAHAD by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SUPLIANTS: IO. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS RHENISH AUTUMN; TO TOUSSAINT LUCA by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE |