posted on 2024-05-02, 15:13authored byFirst World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team
Love have I known, and dawn and gold of day-time, And winds and songs and all the joys that are Known once, and as a child that tires with play-time, Leaped from them to the elemental dust of War.
I have seen blood and death, but all has ending, And even Horror is but made to cease; I am sickened with Love that lives only for lending, And all the loathsome pettiness of peace.
Give me, God of Battles, a field of death, A Hill of Fire, a strong man's agony . . .