AND have we done with War at last? Well, we've been lucky devils both, And there's no need of pledge or oath To bind our lovely friendship fast, By firmer stuff Close bound enough. By wire and wood and stake we're bound, By Fricourt and by Festubert, By whipping rain, by the sun's glare, By all the misery and loud sound, By a Spring day, By Picard clay. Show me the two so closely bound As we, by the red bond of blood, By friendship, blossoming from mud, By Death: we faced him, and we found Beauty in Death, In dead men breath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD TO VENETIAN ARTISTS by WILLIAM BLAKE WHITE MAGIC: AN ODE by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE O, THE PLEASANT DAYS OF OLD! by FRANCES BROWNE TO MARY RUSSELL MITFORD, IN HER GARDEN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |