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What are the words of the poem conquerors by Henry treece?

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April 12, 2010 10:26PM

That sprawled, stiff as stone, before the shattered door. There was not who did not think of home

Full text of the poem Conquerors, (1932) by Henry Treece, a reflection upon the horrors of war.

By sundown we came to a hidden village

Where all the air was still

And no sound met our tired ears, save

For the sorry drip of rain from blackened trees

And the melancholy song of swinging gates.

Then through a broken pane some of us saw

A dead bird in a rusting cage, still

Pressing his thin tattered breast against the bars,

His beak wide open. And

As we hurried through the weed-grown street,

A gaunt dog started up from some dark place

And shambled off on legs as thin as sticks

Into the wood, to die at least in peace.

No one had told us victory was like this;

Not one amongst us would have eaten bread

Before he'd filled the mouth of the gray child

That sprawled, stiff as stone, before the shattered door.

There was not one who did not think of home.