War broke: and now the Winter of the world <br />With perishing great darkness closes in. <br />The foul tornado, centred at Berlin, <br />Is over all the width of Europe whirled, <br />Rending the sails of progress. Rent or furled <br />Are all Art's ensigns. Verse wails. Now begin <br />Famines of thought and feeling. Love's wine's thin. <br />The grain of human Autumn rots, down-hurled. <br /> <br />For after Spring had bloomed in early Greece, <br />And Summer blazed her glory out with Rome, <br />An Autumn softly fell, a harvest home, <br />A slow grand age, and rich with all increase. <br />But now, for us, wild Winter, and the need <br />Of sowings for new Spring, and blood for seed.<br /><br />Wilfred Owen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/1914/
