Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON RECEIVING [THE FIRST] NEWS OF THE WAR, by ISAAC ROSENBERG

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ON RECEIVING [THE FIRST] NEWS OF THE WAR, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Snow is a strange white word
Last Line: Its pristine bloom.
Subject(s): Soldiers' Writings; World War I; First World War

Snow is a strange white word;
No ice or frost
Has asked of bud or bird
For Winter's cost.

Yet ice and frost and snow
From earth to sky
This Summer land doth know;
No man knows why.

In all men's hearts it is:
Some spirit old
Hath turned with malign kiss
Our lives to mould.

Red fangs have torn His face,
God's blood is shed:
He mourns from His lone place
His children dead.

O ancient crimson curse!
Corrode, consume;
Give back this universe
Its pristine bloom.

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