My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated Glory And wished myself were They. What is to be is best descried When it has also been - Could Prospect taste of Retrospect The tyrannies of Men Were Tenderer - diviner The Transitive toward. A Bayonet's contrition Is nothing to the Dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INCOGNITA OF RAPHAEL by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER TO YOUTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SPRING'S WELCOME, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT: 21 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) THE BATTLE-SONG OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by MICHAEL ALTENBURG CAPTAIN BING by LYMAN FRANK BAUM |