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War



I.

The beast exultant spreads the nostril wide,
Snuffing a sickly hate-enkindling scent;
Proud of his rage, on sudden carnage bent,
He leaps, and flings the helpless guard aside.
Again, again the hills are gapped and dyed,
Again the hearts of waiting women spent.
Is there no cooler pathway to content?
Can we not heal the insanity of pride?

Silence the crackle and thunder of battling guns,
And drive your men to strategy of peace;
Crush ere its birth the hell-begotten crime;
Still there's a war that no true warrior shuns,
That knows no mercy, looks for no surcease,
But ghastlier battles, victories more sublime.

II.

Envy has slid in silence to its hole,
And Peace is basking where the workers meet,
And fire has purged the fever of the street
Where raucous tradesmen grinned and gave and stole.
Yet louder now the tides of battle roll,
With cheer or sob of charge or stern retreat,
And sullen thud and rumble of cannon beat
About the heights and passes of the soul.

Not only that amid the hush we hear
The sounds that once were blurred by market cries,
Or classes wrangling in affairs of state:
But forces now set free from sordid fear
No longer work as Mammon's murdering spies,
But storm the very citadels of hate.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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John Le Gay Brereton

John Le Gay Brereton was an Australian poet, critic and professor of English at the University of Sydney. He was the first president of the Fellowship of Australian Writers when it was formed in Sydney in 1928. more…

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