Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu/116



Nudes, stark and glistening, Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning faces And raging limbs Whirl over the floor one fire; For a shirt verminously busy Yon soldier tore from his throat With oaths Godhead might shrink at, but not the lice, And soon the shirt was aflare Over the candle he'd lit while we lay.

Then we all sprang up and stript To hunt the verminous brood. Soon like a demons' pantomime This plunge was raging. See the silhouettes agape, See the gibbering shadows Mixed with the baffled arms on the wall.