"She is watching by the poplars,
Colinette with the seablue eyes,
she is watching and longing and waiting,
Where the long white roadway lies;
And a song stirs in the silence,
As the winds in the boughs above,
She listens -- and starts -- and trembles --
Tis the first little song of love ---
Roses are shining in Picardy,
in the hush of the silver dew,
Roses are flowring in Picardy,
But there's never a rose like you,
And the roses will die with the summertime
And our roads may be far apart,
But there's one rose that dies not in Picardy,
'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart." (mingled sound of harmonica and artillery fire from somewhere towards the Somme).