Answer:
War
by Ellen Glasgow
Ripples of ribbons borne on high,
Bloodstains upon a brazen sky;
From cannon belching on the plain,
Fire that by fire is fought again.
A flash where steel by steel is met;
A fume of smoke and blood and sweat.
Sharp from the smeared and trodden gorse
The death-cry of a wounded horse.
Dust of a plain ground into red
By armies of majestic dead.
Gaunt shadows on the changeless sky,
A flock of vultures swarming nigh.
Mid ashes where a hearth has stood,
Children that cry aloud for food.
Where green the peaceful highways run,
A woman ravished in the sun.
And far across the reeking sod
A Nation sounding thanks to God.
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