Slain in their high places: fallen on rest Where the eternal peace lights up their faces, In God's sacred acre breast to breast: ''" Slain in their high places. From all tribes, all families, all races, Gathered home together; east or west Sending home its tale of gifts and graces. Twine, oh twine, heaven's amaranth for their crest, Raise their praise while home their triumph paces; Kings by their own King of kings confessed, Slain in their high places. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE UNKNOWN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST JAWEH AND ALLAH BATTLE by ALLEN GINSBERG FINIS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |