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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=357563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fruits of Victory</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=357563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">These be the fruits, O man who would out-loom<br>The proudest Caesar of Rome's proudest story,<br>When legion after legion marched to doom<br>That one man might be clothed in briefest glory;<br>Torn bodies, bloody fields and the rank lees<br>Of Conquest's maddening draft, and so a nation,<br>Fat with much spoil and many victories,<br>Drifted into decay and desolation.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=357563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">These be the fruits: Dead men who die in vain,<br>Maimed broken men, to living death surrendered,<br>A myriad stricken homes to mourn the slain <br>Men? Cannon-fodder to the War God tendered,<br>Deluded boys, primed with vainglorious dreams<br>Of flashing steel, romance - war's outworn story <br>Sent forth to gasp young lives out in foul streams<br>Of fetid gas - meet attributes of glory!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=357563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">These be the fruits: This tortured shred of flesh,<br>Lately a youth, with youth's bright gifts scarce tasted<br>Sent to the shambles, while, still clear and fresh<br>In minds of men, the Lesson lingers, wasted <br>The Lesson tought but lately; and so plain,<br>That even fools its wisdom here might borrow;<br>For victor and for vanquished, war's sole gain<br>Lies in long after years of pain and sorrow.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=357563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fruits? Dead-sea fruits, most bitter with the taste<br>Of all war's grim bequest of worse confusion.<br>God and men's bodies, fruitful earth laid waste <br>Not in dire need, but for a vain delusion,<br>And, in the end, a tinsel god who prates<br>Of hollow victories, crying, 'Tomorrow<br>Shall we triumphant rise!' While at the gates<br> Lurks a land's heritage - relentless Sorrow.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a></strong></div>

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