In a straight line Back to the cell Runs this costly deed. Concealed for long in the web of talk, The tapping of typewriter keys, Cigarettes at midnight, The clasping of hands, drinks, commonplace expressions, "O. K."—"Let's go"— It points from an abstraction of mind To the less simple physical end. So the soldier stands at last Far from the flags on the avenue, The bullet whistling toward him; Or the dreamer Feels beneath his feet The scaffold's uneasy floor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING TO WEAR' by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER MOTHER O' MINE by RUDYARD KIPLING PRO PATRIA MORI by THOMAS MOORE TO THE DAISY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE MEDITATION OF THE OLD FISHERMAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |