Nor yet to seek until we find the place,
For map and compass, signboard, news we’re ever getting from
The look upon the passing poilu’s face.
Daniel Turner Balmer, A.S.
ON LEARNING FRENCH
Like silver bells heard in a mist,
Or moonstone echoes from some brook
Where silver birches wall a nook,
Or like sea ripples moon-lit kissed,
Or like a lake of silver ledges