Classic Poem

We who come back,
Nerveless and maimed, from the wild sacrifice
Of the World's youth, stretch'd quivering on the rack
Of Nature pitiless to all its pain,
Will never look again
With the old gay, uncomprehending eyes
Upon the former founts of our delight,
Morning and eve and night,
Sunshine and shadow, melody, love, and mirth.
War tutored us too well. We know their worth,
We who come back!

These will recall
Our martyred Innocence, the indelible stain
Of blood on our hands. Though leaves of coronal
Be heap'd upon our brows, 'twill not redress
The eternal bitterness
That surges with the memory of our slain,
Our brothers by the bond of suffering
And though the Spring
Lights with new loves the eyes that once were wet
For loss of them, WE never shall forget,
We who come back!