I saw a soldier in the crowded street, A frail old woman clinging to his hand, His face alight from cheering in the Strand. He wore a War Cross, and his restless feet Moved to the bugle's note and the eager beat Of the drum's call throbbing across the land, Where nation-wide the Victory Day was planned And men in khaki and in mufti meet. He lifted up his proud face to the skies No light's glad finger touched his darkened eyes; Blind! Blind! The War Cross shining on his breast -- Oh God! Those darkened eyes! Show us how we Can stop this frightful cost of victory Before you give our guilty souls their rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT BEST I SEE; TO U.S.G. RETURN'D FROM HIS WORLD'S TOUR by WALT WHITMAN THE GODODDIN: CONAN by ANEIRIN CHILDHOOD by JENS IMMANUEL BAGGESEN THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 7. LESSON FOR THE PROUD by T. BAKER SONNET: 1 by RICHARD BARNFIELD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 4 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THREE PICTURES by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 29 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |