Truce
Far inland here Death's pinions mocked the roar Of English seas; We sleep to wake no more, Hushed, and at ease; Till sound a trump, shore on to echoing shore, Rouse from a peace, unwonted then to war, Us and our enemies.
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"Far inland here Death's pinions mocked the roar..."
Walter De La Mare's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Truce"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...