Gray eyes, And chubby fists That clasp my hands in faith; The whole, a life for which I live -- My child. Grim men In endless lines; Then mounds of bleeding flesh And murdered men 'neath crosses white -- Man's war. My child With chubby fists, Perhaps tomorrow's Christ Sacrificed to man's brutish hate And greed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON MY THIRTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ASTRONOMY by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE EXILE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS (1) by ANYTE DRAB BONNETS by BERNARD BARTON |