And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
They're describing the soldier being dead.
3 Matching Annotations
- Feb 2022
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Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, But limped on, blood-shod.
Men marching tiredly but not stopping for anything.
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- Jan 2022
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This poem seems to be a metaphor for dying. In her head was chaos but as she pictured death she longed for silence. "As all the Heavens were a Bell, and Being, but an Ear, and I, and Silence, some strange Race, Wrecked, solitary, here-" (Stanza 4)
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