My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated Glory And wished myself were They. What is to be is best descried When it has also been - Could Prospect taste of Retrospect The tyrannies of Men Were Tenderer - diviner The Transitive toward. A Bayonet's contrition Is nothing to the Dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 3 by CONRAD AIKEN VICARIOUS ATONEMENT by RICHARD ALDINGTON POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST YOU KNOW WHAT PEOPLE SAY by JAMES GALVIN LOHENGRIN; PROEM by EMMA LAZARUS WITH CHAOS IN EACH KISS by TIMOTHY LIU EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL |