Written by Clare Sharland, an English woman. Her poetic inspiration was awarded First Prize for poems penned on topical events in 1945.

    IN MEMORY OF MAY 1st 1945
    Great Eagle, fold your wings awhile,
    And turn away your eyes.
    In smoke and thunder, flame and blood,
    Your best and highest dies;
    And all his happy land,
    His great demise
    A shattered wreck of ugly ruin lies.
    Great Eagle, flee a little while,
    To some far lonely height.
    There shall you watch and wait.
    Your land is sunk in night
    For all those cities bright,
    In ruins far and wide torment the night.
    Great Eagle, did you hear that shout -
    That thundered triple roar?
    Its clamorous echoes smote the earth,
    And all the glorious dead
    Who fealty swore,
    Received him home; his earthly fight is o'er.
    Great Eagle, that he worked to save,
    And fought to guard - and died;
    Flee this piteous German wreck.
    In some far corner hide
    Until thy land is free;
    And far and wide throughout the world,
    His name is glorified.
    Meanwhile we hold the heights he won,
    And keep his torch aflame.
    No slothful ease for us who bear
    The honour of his name.
    To do his work we count
    Higher than fame,
    Indifferent to mere earthly praise or flame.

Walter de la Mere, English poet and President of the Poetry Society awarded the prize. Miss Sharland refused the prize, saying: "These words were written in tears and despair. I decided to submit them hoping that they might give a few people at least a glimpse of the other side. Money or anything money will buy, I could not take for them, for money has been the whole cause of this monstrous tragedy. My words belong to an entirely other world where money has no weight. I am glad that I have won your prize for the glorious man who made such a magnificent fight to save the world and failed. We praise him in his failure, we praise him in his eternal victory."