The earth is weary of our foolish wars. Her hills and shores were shaped for lovely things, Yet all our years are spent in bickerings Beneath the astonished stars. April by April laden with beauty comes, Autumn by Autumn turns our toil to gain, But hand at sword hilt, still we start and strain To catch the beat of drums. Knowledge to knowledge adding, skill to skill, We strive for others' good as for our own -- And then, like cavemen snarling with a bone, We turn and rend and kill. . . . With life so fair, and all too short a lease Upon our special star! Nay, love and trust, Not blood and thunder shall redeem our dust. Let us have peace! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NIGHT MAIL NORTH (EUSTON SQUARE, 1840) by HENRY CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL TICHBORNE'S ELEGY, WRITTEN IN THE TOWER BEFORE HIS EXECUTION by CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE FIRMILIAN; A TRAGEDY by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE VISION OF SPRING, 1916 by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD THE TUTELAGE by ROBERT MOWRY BELL REBECCA; WHO SLAMMED DOORS FOR FUN AND PERISHED MISERABLY by HILAIRE BELLOC |