Listen to me, ye creeping ants of men, Because of human hearts I snatched and slew, Because of blood poured out, because of blood, I am drawn close to you. Listen, across the quivering sea of roofs Thousands of miles—that cry along the wires! Aerial signals, soundless waves of air Heavy with import, moan of steel-spun spires! I brood above the costliness of the task Through which these human creatures fall consumed. Men, bow the head before the dizzying grave Whose valour and toil to such a death are doomed. This is the harvest you have sowed; Your blood is mixed with mine, with mine; And I, who break you on my fiery wheel, Not Moloch am I, but divine, divine. The pitiless Angel of the Mercenary? Nay, for I too am great, Lifting the vast hopes of the modern world As on the knees of fate. I am Winged Victory at the prow, Oh ye who serve the God of force, Pilgrims that ride the deep with me, Ye, too, shall learn the love that is remorse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE TRANSFORMATION by CARL SANDBURG AT THE SAND CREEK BRIDGE by JAMES GALVIN CHRIST'S KINGDOM AMONG THE GENTILES by ISAAC WATTS OENONE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN NELL COOK; A LEGEND OF THE 'DARK ENTRY': THE KING'S SCHOLAR'S STORY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: 1 by WILLIAM BASSE |