Thomas Hardy - In Time Of Wars And Tumults lyrics

"Would that I'd not drawn breath here!" some one said, "To stalk upon this stage of evil deeds, Where purposelessly month by month proceeds A play so sorely shaped and blood-bespread." Yet had his spark not quickened, but lain dead To the gross spectacles of this our day, And never put on the proffered cloak of clay, He had but known not things now manifested; Life would have swirled the same. Morns would have dawned On the uprooting by the night-gun's stroke Of what the yester noonshine brought to flower; Brown martial brows in dying throes have wanned Despite his absence; hearts no fewer been broke By Empery's insatiate lust of power. 1915.