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Great Poems of the World War

GOING WEST

Reading edition

WEST to the hills, the long, long trail that strikes Straight and away into the sunset’s glow, Ribbed by the narrow barriers of Death— Dark are the waters that beside it flow. The red flowers fade upon the fields of France, The soaring larks are fallen to their nest. The glare of battle soothes a little space.... As they go west....

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