Let My Soul, A Shining

October's Bellowing Anger Breakes And Cleavesthe Bronzed Battalions Of The Stricken Woodin Whose Lament I Hear A Voice That Grievesfor Battle's Fruitless Harvest, And The Feudof Outrage Men. Their Lives Are Like The Leavesscattered In Flocks Of Ruin, Tossed And Blownalong The Westering Furnace Flaring Red.o Martyred Youth And Manhood Overthrown,the Burden Of Your Wrongs Is On My Head.

You Smug-faced Crowds With Kindling Eye Who Cheer When Soldier Lads March By, Sneak Home And Pray You'll Never Know The Hell Where Youth And Laughter Go.

The Visionless Officialized Fatuitythat Once Kept Europe Safe For Perpetuity.

Let My Soul, A Shining Tree, Silver Branches Lift Towards Thee, Where On A Hallowed Winter's Night The Clear-eyed Angels May Alight.

And When The War Is Done And Youth Stone Dead, I'd Toddle Safely Home And Die--in Bed.