The Paths of Glory a Span Classsearchtermspan Classsearchtermcollecti

Cover The Paths of Glory a Span Classsearchtermspan Classsearchtermcollecti
The Paths of Glory a Span Classsearchtermspan Classsearchtermcollecti
Bertram Lloyd
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46 Walter de la Mare MOTLEY COME, Death, I'd have a word with tliee ; And thou, poor Innocency ; And Love — a lad with broken wing ; And Pity, too : The Fool shall sing to you. As Fools will sing.
Ay, music hath small sense, And a tune's soon told, And Earth is old.
And my poor wits are dense ; Yet have I secrets — dark, my dear, To breathe you all : Come near.
And lest some hideous listener tells, I'll ring my bells.
They're all at war ! Yes, yes, their bodies go 'Neath burning sun and icy sta
...r To chaunted songs of woe, Dragging cold cannon through, a mire Of rain and blood and spouting fire. The new moon glinting hard on eyes Wide with insanities !
47 Hush ! . . . I use words I hardly know the meaning of ; And the mute birds Are glancing at Love From out their shade of leaf and flower, Trembling at treacheries Which even in noonday cower.
Heed, heed not what I said Of frenzied hosts of men, More fools than I, On envy, hatred fed, Who kill, and die — Spake I not plainly, then ?


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