England's woods are green to-day; <br />Every day and all day long <br />In among the trees do stray <br />The birds' song and the winds' song. <br /> <br />Last year's leaves beneath our feet <br />Light do sigh and soft do stir, <br />As if they kept remembrance sweet <br />Of young dead lovers walking there . . . . <br /> <br />In Flanders' woods on hurrying wings <br />Every day and all day long <br />The seeking bullet flies and sings <br />Thin and shrill its bridal song. <br /> <br />All the summer leaves are brown, <br />And all the boughs of summer bare; <br />And many a gallant lad lies down <br />With glory for his sweetheart there.<br /><br />Cicely Fox Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flanders-woods/
