First World War Poetry Digital Archive

From France


The spirit drank the Café lights; All the hot life that glittered there, And heard men say to women gay, 'Life is just so in France'.

The spirit dreams of Café lights, And golden faces and soft tones, And hears men groan to broken men, 'This is not Life in France'.

Heaped stones and a charred signboard shows With grass between and dead folk under, And some birds sing, while the spirit takes wing. And this is life in France.

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