What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? -- Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -- The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COW IN APPLE TIME by ROBERT FROST THE SOUND OF THE TREES by ROBERT FROST TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE TO THE SHIP OF STATE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 54. AL-KAWI by EDWIN ARNOLD OENONE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |