There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows calling with their shimmering sound;


And frogs in the pools singing at night,

And wild-plum trees in tremulous white;


Robins will wear their feathery fire

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;


And not one will know of war, not one

Will care at last when it is done.


Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,

If mankind perished utterly;


And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn

Would scarcely know that we were gone.


Sara Teasdale, 1920 – from the anthology Scars Upon My Heart.


This wonderful poem was previously printed in the magazine Abolish War, of the Movement for the Abolition of War – of which QCA is now a group member.