3 quotes found
“But the old man would not so, but slew his son,And half the seed of Europe, one by one.”
“He's lost his colour very far from here,Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry”
“What passing bells for these who die as cattle?Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stuttering rifle's rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries now for them; no prayers,...”
