<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">From a Flemish Graveyard. <br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/></h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">A YEAR hence may the grass that waves </p><p class="line">O'er English men in Flemish graves, </p><p class="line">Coating this clay with green of peace </p><p class="line">And softness of a year's increase, </p><p class="line">Be kind and lithe as English grass </p><p class="line">To bend and nod as the winds pass;</p><p class="line"> It was for grass on English hills </p><p class="line">These bore too soon the last of ills.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And may the wind be brisk and clean </p><p class="line">And singing cheerfully between </p><p class="line">The bents a pleasantburdened song </p><p class="line">To cheer these English dead along; </p><p class="line">For English songs and English winds </p><p class="line">Are they that bred these English minds.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And may the circumstantial trees </p><p class="line">Dip, for these dead ones, in the breeze, </p><p class="line">And make for them their silver play </p><p class="line">Of spangled boughs each shiny day.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Thus may these look above, and see </p><p class="line">And hear the wind in grass and tree,</p><p class="line">And watch a lark in heaven stand, </p><p class="line">And think themselves in their own land.</p></div><p class="byline">Iolo Aneurin Williams".</p>(The <em>British Review</em></body></html> · Great War