Something as one with eyes that look below The battle-smoke to glimpse the foeman's charge, We through the dust of downward years may scan The onslaught that awaits this idiot world Where blood pays blood for nothing, and where life Pays life to madness, till at last the ports Of gilded helplessness be battered through By the still crash of salvatory steel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-ANALYSIS by DAVID IGNATOW ACCOMPLISHED FACTS by CARL SANDBURG SURFACE AND STRUCTURE: BONAVENTURE HOTEL, LOS ANGELES by KAREN SWENSON RESCUE by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER MY PICTURE LEFT IN SCOTLAND by BEN JONSON STANZAS ADDRESSED TO SOME FRIEND GOING TO THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |