Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/297

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��But the recruits have arrived,

And are waitifig only the first days of icarm weather. . . .

There will be terrible fighting along the whole

line — Now that Spring has come."

I put the paper down . . ,

Something struck out the sun — something unseen ;

Something arose like a dark wave to drown

The goklen streets with a sickly green.

Something polluted the blossoming day

With the touch of decay.

The music thinned and died ;

People seemed hollow-eyed.

Even the faces of children, where gaiety lingers,

Sagged and drooped like banners about to be furled —

And Silence laid its bony fingers

On the lips of the world . . .

A grisly quiet with the power to choke ;

A quiet that only one thing broke ;

One thing alone rose up thereafter ...

Laughter !

Laughter of streams running red.

Laughter of evil things in the night ;

Vultures carousing over the dead ;

Laughter of ghouls.

Chuckling of irliots, cursed with sight.

Laughter of dark and horrible pools.

�� �