O, but Everyone was a bird

Everyone burst out singing;

And I was filled with such delight

As prisoned birds must find in freedom

Winging wildly across the white

Orchards and dark-green woods; on – on – and out of sight

Everyone’s voice was suddenly lfted

and beauty came like the setting sun

my heart was shaken with tears, and horror

drifted away…O, but Everyone

was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done

A new-to-me Sassoon poem. Apparently it was quite common in the trenches for the men to sing together before going over the top. #lumpinthroat

Also a reminder of Augustine, who said that to sing was to praise God twice.

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