Wim Grundy

2021-03-10 08:35 pm

"Oh, weep for Vietnam! The sick dreams

Of passion-winged Ministers of War

Who sent boys in, who never living streams

Nor ripe rice paddies crossed to get their star.

Their Draft which made men fodder, blundered not—

Wonder no more, tho' sixty thousand slain,

But fly there, where they fell; and mourn their lot

Round their cold hearts, where, after their sweet pain,

They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again.''

~ After Shelley, ELEGY TO KEATS