The lamps burned low on cobbled streets,
While Europe held its nervous breath.
Young men laughed in uniformed pride,
Not yet acquainted with death.

The papers shouted glorious words,
Of honour, flags, and kingly call,
But mothers felt a colder truth —
A shadow moving over all, this world.

Church bells rang through misty towns,
As trains rolled east through smoke and rain,
Carrying sons with polished boots
Who would never walk those roads again.

And somewhere in the darkened dusk,
A statesman watched the old-world fade,
As one by one the lamps went out,
And silence filled the century’s grave.

Paul Baldry

Inspired by Sir Edward Grey’s haunting 1914 quote, “The lamps are going out all over Europe…”, this poem reflects the final moments before the First World War consumed a generation. It captures the fading light of innocence, the pride and fear of a continent at the edge of darkness, and the quiet tragedy of lives forever changed by war.

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