A Song Of French Roads

Now praise the Gods of Time and Chance     That bring a hearts desire,     And lay the joyous roads of France     Once more beneath the tyre,     So numbered by Napoleon,     The veriest ass can spy     How Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame     And Ten is for Hendaye.     Sixteen hath fed our fighting-line     From Dunkirk to Pronne,     And Thirty-nine and Twenty-nine     Can show where it has gone,     Which slant through Arras and Bapaume,     And join outside Cambrai,     While Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     And Ten is for Hendaye.     The crops and houses spring once more     Where Thirty-seven ran,     And even ghostly Forty-four     Is all restored to man.     Oh, swift as shell-hole poppies pass     The blurring years go by,     And Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     And Ten is for Hendaye!     And you desire that sheeted snow     Where chill Mont Louis stands?     And we the rounder gales that blow     Full-lunged across the Landes,     So you will use the Orleans Gate,     While we slip through Versailles;     Since Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     And Ten is for Hendaye.     Sou-West by South, and South by West,     On every vine appear     Those four first cautious leaves that test     The temper of the year;     The dust is white at Angoulme,     The sun is warm at Blaye;     And Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     And Ten is for Hendaye.     Broad and unbridled, mile on mile,     The highway drops her line     Past Langon down that grey-walled aisle     Of resin-scented pine;     And ninety to the lawless hour     The kilometres fly,     What was your pace to Bourg-Madame?     We sauntered to Hendaye.     Now Fontarabia marks our goal,     And Bidassoa shows,     At issue with each whispering shoal     In violet, pearl and rose,     Ere crimson over oceans edge     The sunset banners die . . .     Yes, Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     But Ten is for Hendaye!     Oh, praise the Gods of Time and Chance     That ease the long control,     And bring the glorious soul of France     Once more to cheer our soul     With beauty, change and valiancy     Of sun and soil and sky,     Where Twenty takes to Bourg-Madame,     And Ten is for Hendaye!