Marching Men: War Verses/The Fields Are Green in Canada

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THE fields are green in Canada,
And bloom is on the bough,
The orchards by the farmhouse
Are just a glory now;
The thorn-trees by the fences,
The lilacs by the door
Seem more intent on blooming than
They ever did before.

But there are eyes in Canada
That cannot see for tears,
And there are hearts in Canada
Grown weary with their fears,
The nesting-birds of Canada,
They pipe to deafened ears.

The April woods of Canada
Harbour the sweetest things—
A flash of lilting rapture
Mere recollection brings;
Hepaticas and violets
And all the fairy train
Run out in rosy pathways
Subdue the world again.

But who is there in Canada
Has any mind to-day
To roam the woods of Canada
Or count the flowers of May,
When Sorrow walks in Canada
And Grief has mind to stay?

Yet is there bloom in Canada
With scent of other life
Plucked from the fields of burning,
Snatched from the hands of strife;
And they who won it, silenced
Just at the turn of dawn,
Their names shall long remembered be
When ours are dimmed and gone.

They made a song for Canada
Shall ring the world around,
Though hearts may grieve, yet Canada
Forever more is crowned,
And these green fields of Canada
Henceforth are sacred ground.