Poem by Arthur Stringer

War

FROM hill to hill he harried me;
 He stalked me day and night;
He neither knew nor hated me;
 Nor his nor mine the fight.

He killed the man who stood by me,
 For such they made his law;
Then foot by foot I fought to him,
 Who neither knew nor saw.

I trained my rifle on his heart;
 He leapt up in the air.
The screaming ball tore through his breast,
 And lay embedded there.

Lay hot embedded there, and yet
 Hissed home o'er hill and sea
Straight to the aching heart of one
 Who'd wronged not mine nor me.

1. Destiny
2. The Keeper
3. Morning in the North-West
4. The Wordless Touch
5. At the Comedy

Ella Wilcox War ("There is no picturesqueness and no glory")

Print

1207 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version