France

 She triumphs, in the vivid green 
Where sun and quivering foliage meet; 
And in each soldier’s heart serene; 
When death stood near them they have seen 
The radiant forests where her feet 
Move on a breeze of silver sheen.
 

And they are fortunate, who fight 
For gleaming landscapes swept and shafted 
And crowned by cloud pavilions white; 
Hearing such harmonies as might
Only from Heaven be downward wafted— 
Voices of victory and delight.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...