<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Vision</h1><p class="byline"> DOROTHY PAUL <br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/><span class="smallcaps">IN The Saturday Evening Post</span><br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/>Permission to reproduce in this book</p><div class="stanza"><p class="line">ABOVE the broken walls the apple boughs</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Are murmurous with bees; </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Again the slumbrous breeze</p><p class="line">Eddies the snow of drifted chestnut flowers,</p><p class="line">And little ruffling winds go silverly </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Along the poplar trees.</p><p class="line">They never speak of it to me, </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">My comrades. Awkward--kind</p><p class="line">I hear their voices roughen and grow dumb,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Remembering I am blind</p><p class="line">But through the dark, I know--I know the spring has come</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:17%">To France!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">What matter I'll not see beneath the wheat </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Red poppies burn again; </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The gleam of April rain</p><p class="line">Along the boulevards; the flower girls</p><p class="line">With mignonette and pinks and clematis; </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Not see again the Seine</p><p class="line">Slip under the silver bridges to Rouen? </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Ah, no; nor see</p><p class="line">The pale gold smile of buttercups, that glorifies </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Gray ruins with bravery</p><p class="line">Heartbreaking, valiant--the smile that lights the eyes</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:17%">Of France!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For through the sightless mercy of my days </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">White visions come to me--</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Beyond the dark I see.</p><p class="line">Not this worn, steadfast France, wan, gallant, spent,</p><p class="line">With eyes burned haggard by the spirit of the Maid </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And Charlotte of Normandy--</p><p class="line">But France triumphant, high of heart, </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Smiling through throbbing drums </p><p class="line">On Rheims restored, Nancy, Alsace, Lorraine, </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">In that new spring that comes--</p><p class="line">The spring we halt and blind and dead bring back again</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:17%">To France! </p></div></body></html> · Great War