A Lark Above The Trenches Poem by John William Streets

Hushed is the shriek of hurtling shells: and hark!
Somewhere within that bit of soft blue sky-
Grand in his loneliness, his ecstasy,
His lyric wild and free-carols a lark:

I in the trench, he lost in heaven afar,
I dream of Love, its ecstasy he sings;
Doth lure my soul to love till like a star
It flashes into Life: O tireless wings

That beat love's message into melody-
A song that touches in this place remote
Gladness supreme in its undying note
And stirs to life the soul of memory-
'Tis strange that while you're beating into life
Men here below are plunged in sanguine strife!


FRANCE, 19l6