| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | On Sick Leave, 1916 | | By Hamilton Fish Armstrong |
| | | HE limped beneath the Arch, across the Square, | |
| And through the dazzling shaft of rainbow-air | |
| That blew from where the busy fountain leaped. | |
| For him within that vision-laden cloud | |
| There were no peaceful hills, no valleys loud | 5 |
| With streams, no fields in honeysuckle steeped. | |
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| Grim hills there were, emplumed with puffs of smoke— | |
| Valleys there were, where biting guns awoke | |
| Echoes that died amid the eternal din— | |
| Broad honeysuckle-bordered fields there were, | 10 |
| Stamped down by passing troops,—and in the air | |
| That smell which only is where war has been. | | | | |
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