My window looks upon a world grown gray, Where grim trees seem like troubled men in prayer; Smoke pours from chimneys, telling that the day Is drear -- that piercing winds have chilled the air. No songbird trills -- only the sparrows wait Hunched in their feathers, for the proffered crumb; It is as if some stern, relentless fate Had gripped the earth and left it tired and numb. Even the far-off whistling of a train Sounds weary, dwindles to a ghostly wail; Does all the world reflect war's gloomy strain, Wondering what foes, what evils may assail? But spring will come -- of this there is no doubt, With blossoming bough. . . if mankind would implore The powers that be to put war's curse to rout, Could peace not bloom, too, in the world once more? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KING'S JEWEL by PHOEBE CARY THE FINDING OF LOVE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES REBEL COLOR-BEARERS AT SHILOH by HERMAN MELVILLE IF THE POETS HAD FEARED THE ADVERTISERS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONNET FROM JAPAN: 1. THE SPELL by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER PSALM 36. DIXIT INJUSTUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE VAGABOND GROWN OLD by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |