"Why Is This Age Worse...?"

Why is this age worse than earlier ages?

In a stupor of grief and dread

have we not fingered the foulest wounds

and left them unhealed by our hands?

In the west the falling light still glows,

and the clustered housetops glitters in the sun,

but here Death is already chalking the doors with crosses,

and calling the ravens, and the ravens are flying in.

— 1919