Poems (Bradford)/With radiant grief too deep for tears

by Bernice Margaret Bradford

WITH RADIANT GRIEF TOO DEEP FOR TEARS.

With radiant grief too deep for tears
I see the boys go marching by,
Their banners flaunting toward the sky.
And glad faith triumphs over fears.

Columbia hears the cry of France!
She grasps the sword with steady hand!
She waves aloft her battle brand!
The shrilling bugles call: "Advance!"

The writing is upon the walls
That tells the Hun of coming doom;
On earth there is for him no room;
His throne is tottering toward its fall.

Then Belgium's grass shall greenly spring
Fed by the blood of friend and foe,
And grain shall wave and flowers blow,
And happy birds shall fly and sing.

And Serbia's child once more shall smile,
Her woman's face be glad again;
Like sunshine breaking through the rain
That has endured this weary while.

Then Poland, too, shall rise in light
To a free place in a free world;
Her conquered flags that long were furled
Shall proudly wave, unsoiled and bright.

The Hun shall from his throne be hurled;
All downcast nations free shall breathe;
Her sword Columbia shall sheathe;
Democracy shall rule the world.