But cursed are dullards whom no cannon stuns,
That they should be as stones;
Wretched are they, and mean
With paucity that never was simplicity.
By choice they made themselves immune
To pity and whatever moans in man
Before the last sea and the hapless stars;
Whatever mourns when many leave these shores;
Whatever shares
The eternal reciprocity of tears.

He was one powerful poet, wasn't he? So much has been lost ... I'm so glad I discovered him and his compatriots . stunning poetry. I meant to get over here yesterday and didn't, so thank you for honoring him on this day.
ReplyDeleteYes. Nobody has matched him for the intensity of the description of horror. We need someone like him for today's horrors. As a kind of healing balm
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