Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
‘We’re sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks!’
I’d like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or ‘Home, sweet Home’,
And there’d be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.
Similar Posts
I found him in the guard-room at the Base.
And blundered in. With puzzled, patient faceA sergeant watched him; it was no good tryingTo stop it; for he howled and beat his chest.And, all because his brother had gone west,Raved at the bleeding war; his rampant griefMoaned, shouted, sobbed, and choked, while he was kneelingHalf-naked on the floor. In my beliefSuch men have lost…
When life was a cobweb of stars for Beauty who came
On dawn-lit hills and horizons girdled with flameI sought for the triumph that troubles the faces of men.With death in the terrible flickering gloom of the fightI was cruel and fierce with despair; I was naked and bound;was stricken: and Beauty returned through the shambles of night;In the faces of men she returned; and their…
I’d been on duty from two till four.
Down in the frowst I heard them snore.‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and swore.Dawn was misty; the skies were still;Larks were singing, discordant, shrill;They seemed happy; but I felt ill.Deep in water I splashed my wayUp the trench to our bogged front line.Rain had fallen the whole damned night.O Jesus, send me a wound to-day,And I’ll…
When I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,—
While the dim charging breakers of the stormBellow and drone and rumble overhead,Out of the gloom they gather about my bed.They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine.‘Why are you here with all your watches ended?From Ypres to Frise we sought you in the Line.’In bitter safety I awake, unfriended;And while the dawn begins…
Adam, a brown old vulture in the rain,
Huddling sharp chin on scarred and scraggy knees,He moaned and mumbled to his darkening brain;‘He was the grandest of them all was Cain!‘A lion laired in the hills, that none could tire:‘Swift as a stag: a stallion of the plain,‘Hungry and fierce with deeds of huge desire.’Grimly he thought of Abel, soft and fairA lover…
For Morn, my dome of blue,
And Birds who love the twilight of the leaves,Let Jesus keep me joyful when I pray.For the big Bees that humAnd hide in bells of flowers;For the winding roads that comeTo Evening’s holy door,May Jesus bring me grateful to his arms,And guard my innocence for evermore.