Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NEWARK: 1916, by ELIZABETH SEWELL HILL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NEWARK: 1916, by                    
First Line: Sheeted gas flaring down the hard-fought field
Last Line: Thro' fifty and two hundred years!
Subject(s): New Jersey; War


Sheeted gas flaring down the hard-fought field,
Gouts of white lead, tuns of bursting steel,
Chaos of shells. The thunders sound
Fainter thro' caverns deep underground
Where the trenches hold. Time's conquests fall,
Smashed back and back with each interval.
It is hell gone mad; nor shift of grace
Rallies the hurt cry of helplessness.

Merciful seas cool the hurts that drown;
Unarmed non-combatants homeward bound,
Liner and transport going down.

And
For wanton display of efficiency,
For craven insistence of urgency,
There is "Butchery!" "Butchery!" "Butchery!"

World-thunders threaten down untrod ways,
Banners are flying thro' anxious days.
How the years shall carry the spirit's spell
Down abysmal years, the years will tell.

O City of visions memorial,
Back thro' the years, perennial,
Or dark or light—
How the common tongue
Swung glib the name of Washington,
Knew Talleyrand, spoke LaFayette;
Cornwallis spits anathema yet!

The nation born, the common mass
Knew royalty, saw statesmen pass;
Guessed trouble brewed, applauded France,
Appraised the heir of circumstance.

Now the nation grown past her infancy,
Argued of party, of polity;
Or suspicion scotched into bitter hate—
Delinquency made desperate—
Answered Lincoln and measured Lee
Where Gettysburg grappled with destiny.

You, too, have seen in a larger dawn
A world-empire wheel up San Juan,
Break into foam as the seas spurt red
Were it Sampson or Schley or Dewey led.
Now world-thunders threaten down untrod ways,
Banners are flying thro' anxious days.

City of visions memorial,
Back thro' the years perennial;
You who have heard with your ships at sea,
The rattle and roar of artillery;
Who have heard in the thunders, north or south,
Your heroes named by the cannon's mouth;
Name now your glorious company,
And name the glorious company
That Peace has linked with liberty.

City of visions! What dreams shall glow,
Shall live, the Passaic may not know
Where just beyond, the future dips
To the nations' dream-apocalypse,
O city of vision, whose spirit steers
Thro' fifty and two hundred years!





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