I AM banished from the patient men who fight They smote my heart to pity, built my pride. Shoulder to aching shoulder, side by side, They trudged away from life's broad wealds of light. Their wrongs were mine; and ever in my sight They went arrayed in honour. But they died, -- Not one by one: and mutinous I cried To those who sent them out into the night. The darkness tells how vainly I have striven To free them from the pit where they must dwell In outcast gloom convulsed and jagged and riven By grappling guns. Love drove me to rebel. Love drives me back to grope with them through hell; And in their tortured eyes I stand forgiven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH THE LEVELLER, FR. THE CONTENTION OF AJAX AND ULYSSES by JAMES SHIRLEY THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER (DEDICATED TO MISS ELLA F. KENNEDY) by SARA S. BASHEFKIN THE END OF IT by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: THURSDAY by JOHN BYROM THEODRIC; A DOMESTIC TALE by THOMAS CAMPBELL AN ELEGY ON THE LADY PEN; SENT TO MY MISTRESS OUT OF FRANCE by THOMAS CAREW |