War Lyrics dedicated to the friends of the dead. By A. and L. Shore. Second edition, with additions |
 |
FLOWERS IN THE CRIMEA. |
 | War Lyrics |  |
FLOWERS IN THE CRIMEA.
“The tents are turned to gardens”—sweet spring flowersLike children gaze for the first time on death;
They start in smiling wonder from beneath
The thunderbolts stored up by warring Powers;
82
Like fairies, to embalm in innocent breath
Free hearts whose martyred valour covereth
With alien splendour yon tyrannic towers.
Can sweetness mingle thus with groans and wrath?
Oh, if the gardener, Nature, comes so quick
To smooth the horrors on Destruction's path,
Will not soft consolations bloom as thick
At home, amongst the ruins of each life
Whose all was risked and lost in its own England's strife?
L. March 19, 1855.
| War Lyrics | |