<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Lark</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn,</p><p class="line">The guns have brayed without abate;</p><p class="line">And now the sick sun looks upon</p><p class="line">The bleared, blood-boltered fields of hate</p><p class="line">As if it loathed to rise again.</p><p class="line">How strange the hush! Yet sudden, hark!</p><p class="line">From yon down-trodden gold of grain,</p><p class="line">The leaping rapture of a lark.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">A fusillade of melody,</p><p class="line">That sprays us from yon trench of sky;</p><p class="line">A new amazing enemy</p><p class="line">We cannot silence though we try;</p><p class="line">A battery on radiant wings,</p><p class="line">That from yon gap of golden fleece</p><p class="line">Hurls at us hopes of such strange things</p><p class="line">As joy and home and love and peace.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Pure heart of song! do you not know</p><p class="line">That we are making earth a hell?</p><p class="line">Or is it that you try to show</p><p class="line">Life still is joy and all is well?</p><p class="line">Brave little wings! Ah, not in vain</p><p class="line">You beat into that bit of blue:</p><p class="line">Lo! we who pant in war's red rain</p><p class="line">Lift shining eyes, see Heaven too.</p></div><p class="byline">-- Robert W. Service.<br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/> Rhymes of a Red Cross Man.<br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/> (c. 1916, by Barse & Hopkins.) </p></body></html> · Great War