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In
Sun and Shade: A Book of Verse
by
Frederick George Scott
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A
GRAVE IN FLANDERS
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ALL
night the tall trees overhead
Are whispering to the stars;
Their roots are wrapped about the dead
And hide the hideous scars.
The tide of war goes rolling by,
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The
legions sweep along;
And daily in the summer sky
The birds will sing their
song.
No place is this for human tears,
The time for tears is
done;
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Transfigured
in these awful years,
The two worlds blend in
one.
This boy had visions while in life
Of stars on distant skies;
So death came in the midst of strife
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sudden, glad surprise.
He found the songs for which he yearned,
Hopes that had mocked
desire;
His heart is resting now, which burned
With such consuming fire.
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So down the ringing road we pass,
And leave him where he fell.
The guardian trees, the waving grass,
The birds will love him
well.
St. Jans Capelle, 1915.
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