When the quiet acres I look upon were shaken Not by a drum-pulse quickening the hand But sinisterly, sourly, by factory sirens taken Into the service of A.R.P.'s command Quietly the men there engaged in turnip-hoeing, Glancing to skyward, weatherwise and calm, Deftly continued to thin the farmer's sowing, Saw the hurrying wardens and spat upon their palm. Would I had their wisdom and faith each waiting day ... Not seed-time and harvest, but wars, shall pass away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER, FR. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE ATLANTIDES by HENRY DAVID THOREAU CITY OF ORGIES by WALT WHITMAN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 26. BEYOND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) INVITATION TO PETERHEAD by JAMES HAY BEATTIE PEACE ON EARTH by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON BELLA GORRY; THE PAZON'S STORY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A VISION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |