EPOCH, 1914

MORNING broke on Fécamp shore. The sun rose from the sea. Along the stone digue, wooden shoes Clattered busily, And one glad, little Norman voice Carolled, “Sans Souci.” “No care! no care! Tra-lal-la-la!” The child’s glad voice sang on; A red-capped figure crossed the digue To where the great boats swung At peaceful anchor, with their nets Spread azure in the sun. Evening came to the little town Where white cliffs wall the sea. A dark bell rang, “To arms! To arms!” The women on the quay Choked back the tears, when Jean and Pierre Marched forth gallantly. And then no lift of little voice Singing, “Sans Souci.” “Black care, Black care for home and hearth!” For children needing bread! Oh! the men’s faces! Oh! their eyes, That would be cold and dead Ere the new moon, all pitiless And smiling at her dreams, Took her strange way of battlefields And bloody battle-streams. The ripe grain dies on Fécamp hills. Sails wither at the quay. Old people totter to the digue, And shiver ceaselessly, And in the pallid Gothic church The dead and wounded see To it that no Norman voice Carols “Sans Souci.” Deep care, deep care, for us who try To save and clothe and feed! Men taunt us for our dream of Peace Our hope of better breed! Courage! Let faith fight down the years Oh! let our battle be, That the world’s children some day sing Another, “Sans Souci!”