I Am Not Protesting Against The Conduct

October's Bellowing Anger Breakes And Cleavesthe Bronzed Battalions Of The Stricken Woodin Whose Lament I Hear A Voice That Grievesfor Battle's Fruitless Harvest, And The Feudof Outrage Men. Their Lives Are Like The Leavesscattered In Flocks Of Ruin, Tossed And Blownalong The Westering Furnace Flaring Red.o Martyred Youth And Manhood Overthrown,the Burden Of Your Wrongs Is On My Head.

Oh Yes, I Know The Way To Heaven Was Easy. We Found The Little Kingdom Of Our Passion That All Can Share Who Walk The Road Of Lovers. In Wild And Secret Happiness We Stumbled; And Gods And Demons Clamoured In Our Senses.

You Smug-faced Crowds With Kindling Eye Who Cheer When Soldier Lads March By, Sneak Home And Pray You'll Never Know The Hell Where Youth And Laughter Go.

Soldiers Are Dreamers; When The Guns Begin They Think Of Firelit Homes, Clean Beds, And Wives.

In Me The Tiger Sniffs The Rose.