He limped beneath the Arch, across the Square, And through the dazzling shaft of rainbow-air That blew from where the busy fountain leaped. For him within that vision-laden cloud There were no peaceful hills, no valleys loud With streams, no fields in honeysuckle steeped. Grim hills there were, emplumed with puffs of smoke— Valleys there were, where biting guns awoke Echoes that died amid the eternal din— Broad honeysuckle-bordered fields there were, Stamped down by passing troops,—and in the air That smell which only is where war has been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 25 by THOMAS CAMPION A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 8 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN OPPORTUNITY by JOHN JAMES INGALLS SONNET: 106 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AN OLD WOMAN: 1 by EDITH SITWELL A BROADWAY PAGEANT by WALT WHITMAN |