Life, 1915-04-22 · page 11 of 44
Life — April 22, 1915 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a solemn memorial poem by Leolyn Louise Everett, accompanying stark imagery of a World War I battlefield. The illustration shows fallen soldiers and military debris scattered across devastated ground, with peaceful pastoral landscapes visible in the framing borders—a stark contrast emphasizing loss. The poem laments the war's carnage, addressing "meadow-lands soaked with blood" and children lost in "gory dust." It appeals to God to spare mothers from knowing their sons' fates, asking divine mercy for those who suffer. The tone is elegiac and anti-war, mourning the human cost rather than celebrating military glory. Published Spring 1915 (before U.S. entry), this reflects American literary responses to the European conflict's devastating scale.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE white dreams leap athwart the night, Like foam from out the sea, While, in the vast, eternal winds, The whole world calls to me. The meadow-lands are soaked with blood; No hand shall ever reap Fulfillment of the heritage Their ruined confines keep. The meadow-lands are stained with red; No hand shall bind the sheaf. God only knows the fullness of This harvest of our grief. The rose’s frail, renewéd growth Shall tempt another wind, But, with the ever-welling tears, The mothers will go blind. Blind, blind, oh, God of Charity, So that they may not try To find within the gory dust Their children where they lie! Sleep, touch them, touch them with thy wing, So that they may not know The very winds of God repeat The echo of their woe! Leolyn Louise Everett. comicbooks.com