Nay, I have ne'er forgotten yet That day the palanquins were set Aloft, I fancied them my breast By deep anxieties oppressed. And when their curtains, all of red, Were hoisted over them, I said: 'Yourselves this fatal discord stirred, And war is kindled by a word.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ATLANTA UNIVERSITY - ITS FOUNDERS AND TEACHERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JONES'S PRIVATE ARGYMENT by SIDNEY LANIER EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL THREE SPRING NOTATIONS ON BIPEDS by CARL SANDBURG MY FAMILIAR DREAM by PAUL VERLAINE EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS by FRANCOIS VILLON |