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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
REFUGEES, by FLORENCE KREEGER HUNTING
First Line: Under cold stars they passed me by
Last Line: "father, forgive this wrath that knows not what it does."
Subject(s): Europe; Refugees
First Line: Under cold stars they passed me by
Last Line: "father, forgive this wrath that knows not what it does."
Subject(s): Europe; Refugees
Under cold stars they passed me by,
Men, low in anguish, hopeless, forsaken,
Their hearts bleeding, bleeding for the lush loam
Of Sudeten cornfields. Behind them fell their dreams,
Their homes before them -- dark masks
Of horror -- rose ghostly. Beside the road,
I saw a new-hewn cross, war raised, and then
I heard One fallen by the way cry out above his agony,
"Father, forgive this wrath that knows not what it does."
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