Representative Poetry Online

Random Poem of the Day

1What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
2    Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
3    Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
4Can patter out their hasty orisons.
5No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
6Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,--
7The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
8And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
9What candles may be held to speed them all?
10    Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
11Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
12    The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
13Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
14And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.