Of death’s jaws, which had all but swallowed them
Stuck in the bottom of his throat of phlegm.
They were in one of many mouths of Hell
Not seen of seers in visions, only felt
As teeth of traps; when bones and the dead are smelt
Under the mud where long ago they fell
Mixed with the sour sharp odour of the shell.
Similar Posts
‘You! What d’you mean by this?’ I rapped.
‘Please, sir, it’s-‘ ”Old yer mouth,’ the sergeant snapped.‘I takes ‘is name, sir?’-‘Please, and then dismiss.’Some days ‘confined to camp’ he got,For being ‘dirty on parade’.He told me, afterwards, the damnèd spotWas blood, his own. ‘Well, blood is dirt,’ I said.‘Blood’s dirt,’ he laughed, looking away,Far off to where his wound had bledAnd almost merged…
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,
Without a thought of interest or advantage.I used to watch men when they spoke of beautyAnd measure their enthusiasm. OneAn old man, seeing a ( ) setting sun,Praised it ( ) a certain sense of dutyTo the calm evening and his time of life.I know another man that never says a BeautyBut of a horse;…
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,
Voices of boys were by the river-side.Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.The shadow of the morrow weighed on men.Voices of old despondency resigned,Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept.( ) dying toneOf receding voices that will not return.The wailing of the high far-travelling shellsAnd the deep cursing of the provoking ( )The…
It lieth low near merry England’s heart
Forget that in its death their sires had part.And, like a sin, Time lays it bare againTo tell of races wronged,And ancient glories suddenly overcast,And treasures flung to fire and rabble wrath.If thou hast ever longedTo lift the gloomy curtain of Time Past,And spy the secret things that Hades hath,Here through this riven ground take…
After the blast of lightning from the east,
After the drums of time have rolled and ceasedAnd from the bronze west long retreat is blown,Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truthAll death will he annul, all tears assuage?Or fill these void veins full again with youthAnd wash with an immortal water age?When I do ask white Age, he saith not so, —‘My…
Hush, thrush! Hush, missen-thrush, I listen…
And a low whistle by the water’s brim.Still! Daffodil! Nay, hail me not so gaily,-Your gay gold lily daunts me and deceives,Who follow gleams more golden and more slim.Look, brook! O run and look, O run!The vain reeds shook? – Yet search till gray sea heaves,And I will stray among these fields for him.Gaze, daisy!…