II found a dreadful acre of the dead, Marked with the only sign on earth that saves
The wings of death were hurrying overhead, The loose earth shook on those unquiet graves;
For the deep gun-pits, with quick stabs of flame, Made their ow...
Western wind, when will thou blow
The small rain down can rain
Christ, if my love were in my arms, And I in my bed again
Bring her again,
O western wind, Over the western sea
Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me
Not that her fancy holds me dear, Not that a hope may be:
The little voices of the prairie dogs Are tireless
They will give three hurrahs Alike to stage, equestrian, and pullman,