Something as one with eyes that look below The battle-smoke to glimpse the foeman's charge, We through the dust of downward years may scan The onslaught that awaits this idiot world Where blood pays blood for nothing, and where life Pays life to madness, till at last the ports Of gilded helplessness be battered through By the still crash of salvatory steel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALEXANDER THROCKMORTON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH THEN AND NOW by CECIL DAY LEWIS SONGS FOR TWO SEASONS: 1. AFTER GRAVE ILLNESS by CAROL FROST ON THE SALE OF MY FARM by ROBERT FROST JULY IN GEORGY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |