They pass through the great iron gates - <br />Men with eyes gravely discerning, <br />Skilled to appraise the tunnage of cranes <br />Or split an inch into thousandths - <br />Men tempered by fire as the ore is <br />And planned to resistance <br />Like steel that has cooled in the trough; <br />Silent of purpose, inflexible, set to fulfilment - <br />To conquer, withstand, overthrow… <br />Men mannered to large undertakings, <br />Knowing force as a brother <br />And power as something to play with, <br />Seeing blood as a slip of the iron, <br />To be wiped from the tools <br />Lest they rust. <br /> <br />But what if they stood aside, <br />Who hold the earth so careless in the crook of their arms? <br /> <br />What of the flamboyant cities <br />And the lights guttering out like candles in a wind… <br />And the armies halted… <br />And the train mid-way on the mountain <br />And idle men chaffing across the trenches… <br />And the cursing and lamentation <br />And the clamor for grain shut in the mills of the world? <br />What if they stayed apart, <br />Inscrutably smiling, <br />Leaving the ground encumbered with dead wire <br />And the sea to row-boats <br />And the lands marooned - <br />Till Time should like a paralytic sit, <br />A mildewed hulk above the nations squatting?<br /><br />Lola Ridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-legion-of-iron/
