Among these jagged rocks, whose height commands A vista of the Ridges, and the plain Where thrifty farms lie on the battlelands, And sons of soldiers reap their ripened grain -- Among these tragic rocks a pang of fear Cuts at my heart for every frightened lad Who charged this wooded hill or waited here, Gripping his gun with all the strength he had. How young they were, these boys in blood-stained blue, In dim and dusty gray amid the wheat, The salt sweat in their eyes like bitter dew, And burning furrows under burning feet! My youth cries out to theirs. . . . Could I have stood At bay among these rocks, or charged this wood? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 31. A QUESTION by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) PSALM 1 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 5 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNETS OF SEVEN CITIES: PITTSBURGH by BERTON BRALEY MONODY ON A LADY FAMED FOR HER CAPRICE by ROBERT BURNS |