He limped beneath the Arch, across the Square, And through the dazzling shaft of rainbow-air That blew from where the busy fountain leaped. For him within that vision-laden cloud There were no peaceful hills, no valleys loud With streams, no fields in honeysuckle steeped. Grim hills there were, emplumed with puffs of smoke— Valleys there were, where biting guns awoke Echoes that died amid the eternal din— Broad honeysuckle-bordered fields there were, Stamped down by passing troops,—and in the air That smell which only is where war has been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JAIN BIRD HOSPITAL IN DELHI by WILLIAM MEREDITH A MINOR POET by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET FLOWER GUIDANCE by ROBERT FROST I LOOKED FOR LIFE AND DID A SHADOW SEE by JAMES GALVIN TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS |