My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated Glory And wished myself were They. What is to be is best descried When it has also been - Could Prospect taste of Retrospect The tyrannies of Men Were Tenderer - diviner The Transitive toward. A Bayonet's contrition Is nothing to the Dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN TIE-DOWN OF A BONSAI by MARVIN BELL PARAGRAPHS: 15 by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES PURSUIT OF THE WORD by ROBERT FROST |