English poem
IN TIME OF “THE BREAKING OF NATIONS”
by Thomas Hardy
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk.
Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass; Yet this will go onward the same Though Dynasties pass.
Yonder a maid and her wight Come whispering by: War's annals will cloud into night Ere their story die.