  in Popular Educator A THOUSAND whistles break the bonds of sleep With swift exultant summons wild and shrill; Impassioned tongues of flames toward heaven leap To tell us peace has come. The guns are still. A thousand flags have blossomed in the air Like poppies in a garden by the sea. Beyond the eastern hills a golden flare Foretells the day that broke on Calvary. Long-darkened Liberty uplifts once more Her torch on Belgium, Poland and Alsace And Flanders—on each desecrated shore, Slow dawns the sun; and on my mother’s face The look, I think, that Mary must have worn In Galilee on Resurrection morn. |
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