Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Why the War?John Gould Fletcher
From “Modern Lamentations”
T
And the first man said, “Plow, brother.”
But the second man frowned, and growled, tossing his head,
“We must kill each other.”
From the warm breast of earth, our mother.”
“Flower and fruit are for fools who want them, and beauty to boot!
We must kill each other.”
In life let us conquer each other.”
“Death settles the contest more quickly; one cut will release:
We must kill each other.”
Let us sit down on the grass and weep for each other.”
“Because only so can the farce be played to the last:
Draw, brother.”