France. France, I know not what is in my heart. But God forbid that I should be more brave As watcher from a quiet place apart Than you are fighting in an open grave. I will not ask more of you than you ask O Bravest, of yourself. But shall I less? You know the depth of your appointed task Whether you still can bear its bloodiness. Not mine to say you shall not think of peace. Not mine, not mine: I almost know your pain. But I will not believe that you will cease, Nor will I bid you cease, from being slain Till everything that might have been distorted Is made secure for us and Hell is thwarted. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST FOR OUR BETTER GRACES by JAMES GALVIN LEFT-HANDED POEM by JAMES GALVIN ON A TUFT OF GRASS by EMMA LAZARUS THE AWAKENING RIVER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |