AT first, I only buried one, And she was borne along By kindred mourners to her grave, With sacred rite and song. At first they sent for me to pray Beside the bed of death: They blessed their household, and they breathed Prayer in their latest breath. But then men died more rapidly -- They had not time to pray; And from the pillow love had smoothed Fear fled in haste away. And then there came the fastened door -- Then came the guarded street -- Friends in the distance watched for friends; Watched, -- that they might not meet. And Terror by the hearth stood cold, And rent all natural ties, And men, upon the bed of death Met only stranger eyes: The nurse -- and guard, stern, harsh, and wan, Remained, unpitying, by; They had known so much wretchedness, They did not fear to die. Heavily rung the old church bells, But no one came to prayer: The weeds were growing in the street, Silence and Fate were there. O'er the first grave by which I stood, Tears fell, and flowers were thrown, The last grave held six hundred lives. And there I stood alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE FIRE IN THE WOODS by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO RICHARD R. WRIGHT - INSTRUCTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEFORE A PAINTING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MERELY STATEMENT by AMY LOWELL TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH THE STORM by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |