What Passing-bells For These Who

I Am Not Concerned With Poetry. My Subject Is War, And The Pity Of War. The Poetry Is In The Pity. Yet These Elegies Are To This Generation In No Sense Conciliatory. They May Be To The Next. All A Poet Can Do Today Is Warn. That Is Why The True Poets Must Be Truthful.

The Old Lie:dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori.

These Men Are Worth Your Tears. You Are Not Worth Their Merriment.

All The Poet Can Do Today Is Warn. That Is Why True Poets Must Be Truthful.

I, Too, Saw God Through Mud - The Mud That Cracked On Cheeks When Wretches Smiled. War Brought More Glory To Their Eyes Than Blood, And Gave Their Laughs More Glee Than Shakes A Child.