O mother, mother, isn't it fun, The soldiers marching past in the sun? Child, child, what are you saying? Come to church. We should be praying. Look, mother, at their bright spears! The leaves are falling like women's tears. You are not looking at what I see. Nay, but I look at what must be. Hark to the pipes! See the flag flying! I hear the sound of a girl crying. How many hundreds before they are done! How many mothers wanting a son! Here rides the general, pacing slow! Well he may, if he knows what I know! O, this war, what a glorious game! Sin and shame, sin and shame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEVASTATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SORROWING LOVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD VERY EARLY SPRING by KATHERINE MANSFIELD BONNYBELL: THE GRAY SPHEX by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TUNICA PALLIO PROPRIOR by MARIANNE MOORE NEIGHBORS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |