DAYS of the dead men, Danny. Drum for the dead, drum on your remembering heart. Jaures, a great love-heart of France, a slug of lead in the red valves. Kitchener of Khartoum, tall, cold, proud, a shark's mouthful. Franz Josef, the old man of forty haunted kingdoms, in a tomb with the Hapsburg fathers, moths eating a green uniform to tatters, worms taking all and leaving only bones and gold buttons, bones and iron crosses. Jack London, Jim Riley, Verhaeren, riders to the republic of dreams. Days of the dead, Danny. Drum on your remembering heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENEMY by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE FATHERHOOD by HENRY CHARLES BEECHING THE DRYAD by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN A SURVEY OF THE AMPHITHEATRE by MOSES BROWNE MY HEART AND I by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING AT HER CASEMENT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |