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The sky shows cold where the roof has been, But the stars of night are none the dimmer, Where the home once stood are the ruins seen, But the brazier glows with a cheery glimmer, And the old life goes and the new life fills The scenes of many a peasant story, And the bursting shells on the sentried hills Whisper of death but shout of glory !
Gutted and ripped the stricken earth,
Where the bones of the restless dead are
But the great earth breathes of life and birth,
And ruin shrinks from the blossoms blowing.