Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE OTHER ARMY, by BARTHOLOMEW GRIFFIN


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE OTHER ARMY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O'er ruined road past draggled field
Last Line: And fast it grows at every hedge!
Subject(s): Death; Future Life; Marching & Marches; Satire (as Poetic Genre); Soldiers; Travel; Dead, The; Retribution; Eternity; After Life; Journeys; Trips


O'er ruined road past draggled field,
O'er twisted stones of shaken street,
Marches an army terrible,
The army of the bleeding feet, —

Of skirted feet that now first leave
Immaculate field and kitchen floor, —
Old feet that slept beside the hearth,
Wee feet that twinkled by the door.

To strange world past the parish line
(More strange with sound and sight to-day),
Recruited fast at every hedge,
The gathering army takes its way.

Commanders? Aye, they trudge ahead, —
Not badge but babe on every breast.
The troops? They straggle at her skirt,
From tot to crone, in ranks ill-drest.

And uniformed — in rusty best
From cedarn chests and linen bags;
Ah, rough the roads and chill the winds
To sabots split and sudden rags!

Equipment? Aye, 'tis furnished well,
This army of the old and young, —
On shoulder bent a bundle small,
A doll from little fingers swung!

Almost complete — it only lacks
The battle oath and cheer and song;
Save infant fret and agèd sigh,
Now dumbly marches it along.

Past gaping window, roof and sill
It fares to red horizon's edge,
Past blackened furrow, hearth and fane, —
And fast it grows at every hedge!





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