AT dawn the ridge emerges massed and dun In the wild purple of the glow'ring sun, Smouldering through spouts of drifting smoke that shroud The menacing scarred slope; and, one by one, Tanks creep and topple forward to the wire. The barrage roars and lifts. Then, clumsily bowed With bombs and guns and shovels and battle-gear, Men jostle and climb to meet the bristling fire. Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear, They leave their trenches, going over the top, While time ticks blank and busy on their wrists, And hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists, Flounders in mud. O Jesus, make it stop! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR DECORATION DAY: 1861-1865 by RUPERT HUGHES JACK AND JILL (1) by MOTHER GOOSE HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 4 by EZRA POUND FROLIC by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL SONG, WRITTEN AT SEA, IN THE FIRST DUTCH WAR, 1665 ... by CHARLES SACKVILLE (1637-1706) TO A FOIL'D EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONAIRE by WALT WHITMAN |