War is it, O grave heads! that ye With stern and stately pomp decree? Inviting all the Gods from far To join you in the game of war! Have ye then lived so many years To find no purer joy than tears? And seek ye now the highest good In strife, in anguish, and in blood? Your wisdom may be more than ours, But you have spent your golden hours, And have methinks but little right To make the happier fret and fight. Ah! when will come the calmer day When these dark clouds shall pass away? When (should two cities disagree) The young, the beauteous, and the free, Rushing with all their force, shall meet And struggle with embraces sweet, Till they who may have suffer'd most Give in, and own the battle lost. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HERETIC: 1. BLASPHEMY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER DROWNED IN HARBOUR by ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA TO THE NECROPHILE by WALTER CONRAD ARENSBERG SONNET: 16 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE LOVE OF DECEIT by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE EASTER (TO A BASE AND TWO TREBLES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1645 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PSALM 7; UPON WORDS OF CHUSH THE BENJAMITE; AUGUST 14, 1653 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |