THOU little voice! Thou happy sprite, How didst thou gain the air and light— That sing'st so merrily? How could such little wings Give thee thy freedom from these dense And fetid tombs—these burrows whence We peer like frightened things? In the free sky Thou sail'st while here we crawl and creep And fight and sleep And die. How canst thou sing while Nature lies Bleeding and torn beneath thine eyes, And the foul breath Of rank decay hangs like a shroud Over the fields the shell hath ploughed? How canst thou sing, so gay and glad, Whilst all the heavens are filled with death And all the world is mad? Yet sing! For at thy song The tall trees stand up straight and strong And stretch their twisted arms. And smoke ascends from pleasant farms And the shy flowers their odours give. Once more the riven pastures smile, And for a while We live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A MAGAZINE SONNET by RUSSELL HILLARD LOINES ELAINE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY STANZAS WRITTEN IN DEJECTION, NEAR NAPLES by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY FOR THOSE AT SEA; HYMN by WILLIAM WHITING AEOLIAN HARP (2) by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WALKEN HWOME AT NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES THWARTED UTTERANCE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |