oat-blades

Updated: July 1, 2025

'Tis a dream come true; for the afternoons Blow bugles of war, by our fields of grain, And the sabres clink, as the dark dragoons Come galloping up the lane; The pigeons have flown from the eves and tiles, The oat-blades have grown to blades of steel, And the Huns swarm down the leafy aisles Of the grand old Commonweal.

George Alfred Townsend - Campaigns of a Non-Combatant,: and His Romaunt Abroad During the War