Because there was a thing to advertise -- Crown, clown or creed, a theory or a phrase: "God and the king!" "Vox populi?" -- the cries, The instant's gaping awe, the drifting praise Swept the poor insects from their lowly ways Up the sheer walls of war; the howling skies Clawed at them while they clung their moment; rays Of wintry glory mocked their dying eyes. Still for the greed of princes, craze of mobs, Death, tawdry showman, keeps street holiday. Still float his pennons black and red -- still rise The cliffs of madness o'er the grave that robs His doomed performers of their pitiful pay. . . . And all our earth is black with fallen flies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 26. FIRST LOVE by THOMAS CAMPION ARS VICTRIX (IMITATED FROM THEOPHILE GAUTIER) by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON DESERT FLOWERS by KEITH CASTELLAINE DOUGLAS TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER by JOHN DRYDEN EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: 'EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE' by RUDYARD KIPLING COMMEMORATION ODE READ AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL EXTRACTS FROM VERSES WRITTEN FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1823 by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |