Not that we are weary, Not that we fear, Not that we are lonely Though never alone— Not these, not these destroy us; But that each rush and crash Of mortar and shell, Each cruel bitter shriek of bullet That tears the wind like a blade, Each wound on the breast of earth, Of Demeter, our Mother, Wound us also, Sever and rend the fine fabric Of the wings of our frail souls, Scatter into dust the bright wings Of Psyche! II Impotent, How impotent is all this clamor, This destruction and contest ... Night after night comes the moon Haughty and perfect; Night after night the Pleiades sing And Orion swings his belt across the sky. Night after night the frost Crumbles the hard earth. Soon the spring will drop flowers And patient creeping stalk and leaf Along these barren lines Where the huge rats scuttle And the hawk shrieks to the carrion crow. Can you stay them with your noise? Then kill winter with your cannon, Hold back Orion with your bayonets And crush the spring leaf with your armies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON BLIZZARD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS HAWORTH CHURCHYARD by MATTHEW ARNOLD A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE |