THE croaking ravens flap o'er fallow fields, The gaunt wolf lairs in ruined city walls, While man, the Mighty Master, skulking crawls On hands and knees so that no stir reveals His presence; sunk to shameful depths he yields His meal, a half-gnawed bone, to beasts. The halls Where nobles feasted now are used as stalls And ladies' bowers are piled with leathern shields. Fierce Messengers of Hell the barbarous horde Swept through the land: beneath their hoofs the sod Was shriveled; overhead a flaming sword Blazed in the sky; behind Destruction trod, Yet men, submissive, bowed before the Lord And whispered, "Peace, it is the Scourge of God." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WE FACE THE FUTURE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 4. THE LOTTERY GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A JOYFUL SONG OF FIVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: J. MILTON MILES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MIDSUMMER FROST (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG |