Edwin Muir - Wayside lyrics

We work for soldiers' pay, The flesh's pittance, Can smell d**h's kiss before it close our mouth, So young we make the creeping worm's acquaintance. Common as dandelions men serve their narrow Sentence. North or South: Defeated suns that dustily burn away. Yet having spent our wage On splendours fleeting, The spider soul, conceiving still, takes stock Of wayside valour, weaves a brittle greeting From weed to weed, wind-grafted on the rock; Two braveries meeting, New God is born, to fire the world with rage.