T
��Elisabeth Roberts MacDonald
Shall their offering all be wasted, Their sacrifice be vain?
No; for the great ideal
For which our hearts have bled Lives by each field of honour,
Lives by our countless dead;
And a wind of Life is blowing,
A golden trumpet calls : Rallyrallyrally,
Till the dark fortress falls !
��DAFFODILS
HERE are daffodils in the garden,
Dear, in the garden ; Daffodils in the garden where we walked so long ago :
Golden, lovely, row on row, Just as radiant as of old, While we say The line will hold
Where our brothers face the foe! There are daffodils in the garden.
There are daffodils in the garden,
In the old, safe garden,
Where the shaded paths are waiting and thrushes flute and call ;
Far away, our human wall Stands, to keep the garden places ; Love of love the dark foe faces
And the standard shall not fall! There are daffodils in the garden.
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