"SOMEWHERE in France," upon a brown hillside, They lie, the first of our brave soldiers slain; Above them flowers, now beaten by the rain, Yet emblematic of the youths who died In their fresh promise. They who, valiant-eyed, Met death unfaltering have not fallen in vain; Remembrance hallows those who thus attain The final goal; their names are glorified. Read then the roster! -- Gresham! Enright! Hay! -- No bugle call shall rouse them when the flower Of morning breaks above the hills and dells, For they have grown immortal in an hour. And we who grieve and cherish them would lay Upon their hillside graves our immortelles! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOROTHY DANCES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER JANUARY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULLFINCH by WILLIAM COWPER BEETHOVEN'S THIRD SYMPHONY by RICHARD HOVEY THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY NO SONGS IN WINTER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |