THAT wooden cross beside the road Marks -- as the now-blurred legend showed -- That there a 'soldat anglais' dead Has found betimes his foreign bed -- His last impregnable abode. 'Tis no uncommon episode, You say, of war's barbaric code, For which so many men have bled -- That wooden cross! Nay, but this blood was well bestowed; 'Twas shed for nations 'neath the load Of mailed oppression fury-fed, And ruthless rapine, sore bestead. Surely it needs no funeral ode -- That wooden cross! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR THE INVESTITURE by CECIL DAY LEWIS TO -, WITH A ROSE by SIDNEY LANIER HOW TO KNOW LOVE FROM DECEIT by WILLIAM BLAKE THE LAWYER'S WAYS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO THE BELGIANS by LAURENCE BINYON AT A FUNERAL by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |