Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-04-17
THE SPRING SONG IN A DREAM CITY
The Tuleres Gardens the Champs Eees the Seine and the
Eiffe Tower Respond to It, but Human
Hearts Most of ALL
BY PHILIP GIBBS
In the London Daily Chronicle.

the spirit of it stepped golden crocuses bav.
thrust up through the warming earth no,
far from where, night or two ago, fire.
balls dropped from hostile aircraft.
Oh, strange and tragic spring of this year
1851 Is 1t possible that, while Nature |,
preparing her beauty for the earth, and Is
busy in the ways of life, men should bs
heaping her fields with death, and drenchlnS
this fair earth with blood?
One cannot forget Even in Paris, away
from the sound of the guns which roared in
my ears last week, and away from the moan
Of the wounded which made my ears ache
worse than the noise of battle, one cannot
forget the tragedy of all this death which
is being piled up under the blue sky, and
on fields all astir with the life of the year.
In the Tuleries gardens the buds are
green, But there are black figures below
them. The women who sit there all the aft.
ernoon, sewing and knitting or with idle
hands in their laps, are clothed in widowS
black. 1 glanced into the face of one Of
these figures as I passed this morning She
was quite a girl to whom the spring song
should have called with a loud clear note
Of joy. But her head dropped, and her eyes
were steadfast as they stared at the path
way. and the sunshine brought no color into
her white cheeks She shivered
a little. and pulled her crepe veil closer
about her face.
A Splendid Superstition
Down the broad pathway between the
white statues came procession of Grip
pies. They wore the uniforms of the French
army, and were mostly young men In the
,rir oF to o1s aDring should
have brought sense OF vital JOY of intense
and energetic life. But they dragged be.
tween their crutches. while their Topped
limbs hung free. A little further OIL IN
patch of sunshine beyond the wall OF inc
Jeu de Paumes, sat half a dozen soldiers
France with loose sleeves pinned to tneu
coats, or with only one leg to rest upon u.
ground. One of them was blind, ana sAs
there with his face to the SUM- s'@''as
toward the fountain of the nymphs wl'n
sightless eyes. Those six comrades oi w.
were quite silent, and did not "nsh' u''
battles DER again.
Perhaps they were sad because they hSA,s
the spring song and knew that they eVs
never step out again to the dance 'ui'
youth.
And yet, after all, there Is more glauhes.
than sadness in Paris now that sprihs
come, in spite Of the women in oiacA -, d,
the cripples in the gardens, Once asa'n
brings the promise of life. NOW ths'
spring is here" said the old cab drNetS
the white hat. France will soon be Nv
and the war will soon be over"
This hopefulness that the fine weathel W.
end the war quickly is a splendid supsls.
tion which buoys up many hearts In Flsls~ ~,
Through the long, wet months OF W." 9.t
the women and the old people have ason'.s l..
over the misery of their soldiers
trenches. Now that the earth Is o's.
again and the rain clouds are VANISHING
hind a blue sky, there is new hope s -.
wonderful optimism in the spirit @ d
people. 'The spring will bring Vic.0's
France" is an article Of faith whcI 'sas
forts the soul of the little midinel,s "a
sings on her way to the Rue LafayeIss' =.
the French soldier who finds WHO n0'
growing In his trench.