THE LILY
The lily sadly drooped her head;
“My France is bowed in grief!” she said.
“Must I live on to satisfy
The conquering Teuton’s lustful eye?
Lord, let me wither!
Let me die!”
The lily proudly raised her head;
“My France is free once more!” she said.
“Free from dark and blood-smirched gloom!
The ruthless Hun has met his doom.
Lord, let me gladden!
Let me bloom!”
Howard J. Green, Corp., Inf.