Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/150

 124 HERMANN HAGEDORN

Under the jQickering, faint starlight The drooping gleaners come.

Out of the darkness, dim Shadowy shadow-bearers.

Dragging into the bale-fire's rim Pallid death-farers.

In the plain, on the hill. No volleys for their last rite.

We need om* powder — to kill. High on their golden bed, Pile up the dead !

Pyres in the night, in the night !

Torches, piercing the gloom ! Look ! How the sparks take flight I

Stars, stars, make room !

Smoke, that was bone and blood !

Hark ! The deep roar. It is the souls telling God

The glory of war !

— Hermann Hagedorn.

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