I cannot flap a flag
Or beat a drum;
Behind the mob I lag
With larynx dumb;
Alas! I fear I'm not
A Patriot.
With acrid eyes I see
The soul of things;
And equal unto me
Are cooks and kings;
I would not cross the street
A duke to meet.
Oh curse me for a fool
To be so proud;
To stand so still and cool
Amid the crowd.
For President or Peer
God, let me cheer!
But no, despite the glee
My heart is cold;
I think that it may be
Because I'm old;
I'm dumb where millions yell . . .
Oh what the hell!
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Comments
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Personally I think this is about Service himself. It does seem to reflect the man's own feelings, feelings that made him volunteer for the Red Cross not the army in WW 1.
Jim -
I disagree about the 'jest', I feel that old man character has lived too long and knows war for what it is, foul, deathly and nothing to be excited about, he cannot bring himself to cheer.
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One of his jestful pieces. Tho, I feel somewhat all of his pieces have jest and humor in them. Even those that probably shouldn't.
A good piece by Service, yes, a good piece indeed.
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