"FLANDERS."

Observer, Volume XXXV, Issue 46, 24 July 1915, Page 19

"FLANDERS."

"Under the lee of the little wood I'm sitting in; the sun; What will be don© in Flanders Before the day be done? Under my feet the springing blades Are green as green can be; It's the ibloodly clay of Flanders That keeps them green for me. Above, beyond the larches, The sky is very blue; 'It's the smoke of hell in Flanders That leaves the sun for you.' By nests in the blossoming elm-tree The wise, rooks rock on bough. What blasts of hell, in Flanders, Rive the bared branches, now?" H.0.F., in "The Times." * * *

The widow of a war hero has at least the solace of a certain prestige, but the woman who is neither wife nor widow, the distracted families of those about whose fate nothing definite is known—what hope or comfort is there for them ?—New York "Literary Digest."