I saw the mowers swinging
Their scythes in the English hay . . .
What swathes of dead are lying
In fields of France this day!
The mowers mow in the sunshine,
Their scythes flash all together —
Even as flash the bayonets
Out there in the golden weather.
The mowers mow in the sunshine,
The sweat stands on each brow . . .
It is blood, not sweat, our bravest
Spend in war’s windrows now.
I see the mowers swinging
Their scythes in the grass and flowers . . .
Ah God! What price has bought it,
This English peace of ours!
(Cicely Fox Smith)
More Poetry from Cicely Fox Smith:
Cicely Fox Smith Poems based on Topics: War & Peace, God, English, Weather- The Quest Of The Queen (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
- Missing (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
- The Rhyme Of The Four Strong Men (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
- Resurrection (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
- The King's Grief (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
- The Three Ships (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: God Poems, War & Peace Poems, Weather Poems, English PoemsBased on Keywords: swathes, mowers, scythes, windrows