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...A FINE DAY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD WHAT I'VE BELIEVED IN by JAMES GALVIN FICTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WINTER SONG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |