There exists the eternal fact of conflict And-next-a mere sense of locality. Afterward we derive sustenance from the winds. Afterward we grip upon this sense of locality. Afterward, we become patriots. The godly vice of patriotism makes us slaves, And-let us surrender to this falsity Let us be patriots Then welcome us the practical men Thrumming on a thousand drums The practical men, God help us. They cry aloud to be led to war Ah- They have been poltroons on a thousand fields And the sacked sad city of New York is their record Furious to face the Spaniard, these people, and crawling worms before their task They name serfs and send charity in bulk to better men They play at being free, these people of New York Who are too well-dressed to protest against infamy . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1914: 5. THE SOLDIER by RUPERT BROOKE LINES TO WILLIAM LINLEY WHILE HE SANG A SONG TO PURCELL'S MUSIC by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE WATERS OF H. BAPTISME by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE THIRD FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LAST MAN; A LAKE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |