|
|
Europe
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Little lads and grandsires,
Women old with care;
But all the men are dying men
Or dead men over there.
No one stops to dig graves;
Who has time to spare?
The dead men, the dead men
How the dead men stare.
Kings are out a-hunting -
Oh, the sport is rare;
With dying men and dead men
Falling everywhere.
Life for lads and grandsires;
Spoils for kings to share;
And dead men, dead men,
Dead men everywhere.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 293 times.
|
|
