 | A Sonnet Chronicle |  |
62
The Battle of Liao-Yang
September 1st, 1904.
Grim dawned the day beneath a blood-red bar,
Grey comes the noon, and over fell and flood
A sense of desolation seems to brood
Sorrow and loss; with echoes from afar
The clouds upon Helvellyn smoke of war,
The moorland welters purple-dark with blood,
While all the world looks on in wistful mood
Where fierce Mikado shocks with mighty Tsar.
Grey comes the noon, and over fell and flood
A sense of desolation seems to brood
Sorrow and loss; with echoes from afar
The clouds upon Helvellyn smoke of war,
The moorland welters purple-dark with blood,
While all the world looks on in wistful mood
Where fierce Mikado shocks with mighty Tsar.
This is a day of battles! since Sedan
The thunder of this day has never died,
The crash of empire has not passed away;
Lord God of battles, when shall lust and pride
Cease, and beneath Love's universal sway
The Nations rest confederate man with man?
The thunder of this day has never died,
The crash of empire has not passed away;
Lord God of battles, when shall lust and pride
Cease, and beneath Love's universal sway
The Nations rest confederate man with man?
| A Sonnet Chronicle | |