<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head"><em>Vive La France!</em></h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Franceline</span> rose in the dawning gray,</p><p class="line">And her heart would dance though she knelt to pray,</p><p class="line">For her man Michel had holiday,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Fighting for France.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">She offered her prayer by the cradle-side,</p><p class="line">And with baby palms folded in hers she cried:</p><p class="line">"If I have but one prayer, dear, crucified</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Christ -- save France!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">"But if I have two, then, by Mary's grace,</p><p class="line">Carry me safe to the meeting-place,</p><p class="line">Let me look once again on my dear love's face,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Save him for France!"</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">She crooned to her boy: "Oh, how glad he'll be,</p><p class="line">Little three-months old, to set eyes on thee!</p><p class="line">For, 'Rather than gold, would I give,' wrote he,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">'A son to France.'</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">"Come, now, be good, little stray <em>sauterelle</em>,</p><p class="line">For we're going by-by to thy papa Michel,</p><p class="line">But I'll not say where for fear thou wilt tell,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Little pigeon of France!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Six days' leave and a year between!</p><p class="line">But what would you have? In six days clean,</p><p class="line">Heaven was made," said Franceline,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">"Heaven and France."</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">She came to the town of the nameless name,</p><p class="line">To the marching troops in the street she came,</p><p class="line">And she held high her boy like a taper flame</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Burning for France.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Fresh from the trenches and gray with grime,</p><p class="line">Silent they march like a pantomime;</p><p class="line">"But what need of music? My heart beats time --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%"><em>Vive la France!"</em></p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">His regiment comes. Oh, then where is he?</p><p class="line">"There is dust in my eyes, for I cannot see, --</p><p class="line">Is that my Michel to the right of thee,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Soldier of France?"</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Then out of the ranks a comrade fell, --</p><p class="line">"Yesterday -- 't was a splinter of shell --</p><p class="line">And he whispered thy name, did thy poor Michel,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Dying for France."</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The tread of the troops on the pavement throbbed</p><p class="line">Like a woman's heart of its last joy robbed,</p><p class="line">As she lifted her boy to the flag, and sobbed:</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:%"><em>"Vive la France!"</em></p></div><p class="byline">Charlotte Holmes Crawford</p></body></html> · Great War