PILE the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me work -- I am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at Gettysburg And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor: What place is this? Where are we now? I am the grass. Let me work. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LYMAN KING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CINQUAIN: MOON-SHADOWS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY MEMORIAL TO D.C.: 2. PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE BURNING BABE by ROBERT SOUTHWELL THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 4 by MARK AKENSIDE CARPE DIEM by JEAN ANTOINE DE BAIF SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 37. NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |