It's quiet now beneath this canopy
where birdsong feeds the tranquility
and thriving oaks dispatch their roots
beneath the earth where hopes once fresh
are held in limbo on this ridge.
And streams of youth once marched in ranks
to merge as rivers at the coast
and build a mighty line so long it stretched
from Flanders to the Alps.
It held a force that thought its might,
could own a continent outright.
It's quiet now beneath these skies
where we can walk or sit in peace
and here the birdsong in the trees.
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