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At The War Office, London

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(Affixing the Lists of Killed and Wounded: December, 1899) I     Last year I called this world of gain-givings     The darkest thinkable, and questioned sadly     If my own land could heave its pulse less gladly,     So charged it seemed with circumstance whence springs      The tragedy of things. II     Yet at that censured time no heart was rent     Or feature blanched of parent, wife, or daughter     By hourly blazoned sheets of listed slaughter;     Death waited Nature's wont; Peace smiled unshent      From Ind to Occident.

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"(Affixing the Lists of Killed and Wounded: December, 1899)..."

"At The War Office, London" is a quintessential example of Thomas Hardy's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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