GOING WEST
WEST to the hills, the long, long trail that strikes
Straight and away into the sunset’s glow,
Ribbed by the narrow barriers of Death—
Dark are the waters that beside it flow.
The red flowers fade upon the fields of France,
The soaring larks are fallen to their nest.
The glare of battle soothes a little space....
As they go west....
SPRING
F.M.H.D., F.A.
in The Stars and Stripes, A.E.F., France
IT’s Spring at home; I know the signs—
The buds are bursting on the vines,
The birds speed high with happier wings,
The heart of youth is glad, and sings.
It’s Spring in France; I know the signs—
The massed reserves behind the lines;
The heart of youth burgeons once more
To manhood, and resurgent war!
ON HIS OWN
ADOLPHE E. SMYLIE
of The Vigilantes
Permission to reproduce in this book