 | [Poems by Kilmer in] Memories of my son Sergeant Joyce Kilmer |  |
19
FOR A BIRTHDAY
To A. K. K., 1913
England, England, put your veil of mist away!Dress in green with poppies in your hair.
England, England, let your birds sing holiday.
Let your lanes be jubilant and fair.
She is made of singing, therefore hail her with a song,
Strew her path with loveliness and crown her with delight
Golden hours of joy and beauty—these to her belong,
Everything that lives today must own her gentle might.
England, England, now the jocund feast is here
Now is time for frolicing and mirth.
England, England, now another turning year,
Brings the day that celebrates her birth!
| [Poems by Kilmer in] Memories of my son Sergeant Joyce Kilmer | |