Easter at Ypres, 1915

THE sacred Head was bound and diapered, The sacred Body wrapped in charnel shroud, And hearts were breaking, hopes that towered were bowed, And life died quite when died the living Word. So lies this ruined city. She hath heard The rush of foes brutal and strong and proud, And felt their bolted fury. She is ploughed With fire and steel, and all her grace is blurred.

But with the third sun rose the Light indeed, Calm and victorious though with brows yet marred By Hell's red flame so lately visited. Nor less for thee, sweet city, better starred Than this grim hour portends, new times succeed; And thou shalt reawake, though aye be scarred. W. S. S. Lyon