Many men have loved the bell
You dangled from the reins
Weeping blood like corundum
In their facets fair reflecting
Lacrymae Tyranni, Lacrymae Caedis
Dulce et decorum est
Lost in beauty, lost in gore
Shades of ancients conquering
Chiming sweet and pure
Spirits dredged from their graves, in revenant parade
Phantoms mumming pompe funebre
Mouthing benedictions strange
“No promised end, these wild desires
Could all or half fulfill
No threatened hell with quenchless fires
subdue this quenchless will!”
Lacryma caedis, dulce et decorum est
Riding the rough god goes out
Wastes beyond wastes within
Blood cuts the bed of the river
Swalled unfelt by the sea
Unlight me now. Swell, imperious bells.