THE SAD YEARS
PROGRESS: 1914-1918 (Continued)
“Lo! I am athirst,” said the hot earth,
“And I would quench my fears.”
“Then thou shalt taste,” cried the young maid,
“The bitter sweet of tears.”
“Have I not held them,” said the old earth,
“The dead unto my heart?”
“Under my white robe,” cried the chill wind,
“So a new spring should start.”
“Men must pale and die,” said the black earth,
“So men may rise and live;”
“And I was born thus,” cried the great town,
“In blood they slew to give.”
“Grant to me red wine,” said the brown earth,
“Else do I droop and tire.”
“As in the great past,” cried the pale hills,
“We drank of hearts afire.”
“In war have I grown,” said the fierce earth,
“Man against his brother.”
“Death's sheaves have fed thee,” said the green woods,
“Beast slaying one the other.”
