THE BIRDS FLIT UNAFRAID
The birds flit unafraid Through your great cannonade; And, 0 Cannoniers, though ill The forests take your skill And as by winter nipp'd Scatter leaves bullet-stript • Down the shell-ravaged road— Still, in its dark abode, In the branches of God, The Soul sings on alone; You may blow the dead from their crypt, Not the dream from its throne! —Herbert Trench, in thq "Westminster Gazette."
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Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2954, 18 December 1916, Page 8
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69THE BIRDS FLIT UNAFRAID Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2954, 18 December 1916, Page 8
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