| |
| IN spite of war, in spite of death, | |
| In spite of all man’s sufferings, | |
| Something within me laughs and sings | |
| And I must praise with all my breath. | |
| In spite of war, in spite of hate | 5 |
| Lilacs are blooming at my gate, | |
| Tulips are tripping down the path | |
| In spite of war, in spite of wrath. | |
| “Courage!” the morning-glory saith; | |
| “Rejoice!” the daisy murmureth, | 10 |
| And just to live is so divine | |
| When pansies lift their eyes to mine. | |
| |
| The clouds are romping with the sea, | |
| And flashing waves call back to me | |
| That naught is real but what is fair, | 15 |
| That everywhere and everywhere | |
| A glory liveth through despair. | |
| Though guns may roar and cannon boom, | |
| Roses are born and gardens bloom; | |
| My spirit still may light its flame | 20 |
| At that same torch whence poppies came. | |
| Where morning’s altar whitely burns | |
| Lilies may lift their silver urns | |
| In spite of war, in spite of shame. | |
| |
| And in my ear a whispering breath, | 25 |
| “Wake from the nightmare! Look and see | |
| That life is naught but ecstasy | |
| In spite of war, in spite of death!” | |
| |
