The Great War

from Poems of the Great War, an electronic edition

Shakespeare, 1916

Now when the sinking Sun reeketh with blood,

And the gore-gushing vapors rent by him

Rend him and bury him: now the World is dim

As when great thunders gather for the flood,

And in the darkness men die where they stood,

And dying slay, or scatter'd limb from limb

Cease in a flash where mad-eyed cherubim

Of Death destroy them in the night and mud:

When landmarks vanish -- murder is become

A glory -- cowardice, conscience -- and to lie,

A law -- to govern, but to serve a time: --

We dying, lifting bloodied eyes and dumb,

Behold the silver star serene on high,

That is thy spirit there, O Master Mind sublime.