O that this weary war of life With me were o'er, Its eager cry of woe and strife Heard never more! I've fronted the red battle field Mine own dark day; I fain would fling the helmet, shield, And sword away. I strive not now for victory ''" That wish hath fled; My prayer is now to numbered be Among the dead ''" All that I loved, alas! ''" alas! Hath perished! They tell me 'tis a glorious thing, This wearing war; They tell me joy crowns suffering And bosom scar. Such speech might never pass the lips That could unfold How shrinketh heart when sorrow nips Affections old: When they who cleaved to us are dust, Why live to moan? Better to meet a felon thrust Than strive alone ''" Hotter than loveless palaces The churchyard stone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 27. HEART'S COMPASS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS; SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE MORAL FABLES: THE SWALLOW, AND THE OTHER BIRDS by AESOP A SHADOW OF THE NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AUTUMN AND SPRING by JULIA COOLEY ALTROCCHI VICISSITUDES by GAMALIEL BRADFORD SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A VISION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |