Strike on, Great Nations, wage new armaments, Spit on your swords!I like the gesture well. The "Field o' Glory" beckons. ... Never think That you may squeeze the bullets out in hell! Conjure new gases, that the living wine Of all that feed youfish and fowl and grain May wither into smoke! ... I only ask To watch your bodies rotting clean again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 33 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH O, THE PLEASANT DAYS OF OLD! by FRANCES BROWNE A CRAFTSMAN'S AMBITION by BLISS CARMAN SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 113 by BLISS CARMAN SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 52 by BLISS CARMAN ESTREINES; TO CALISTA by CHARLES COTTON TO A FRIEND WHOM I HAD NOT SEEN SINCE MY CHILDHOOD by LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON |