WAR-HORSES 



By G. M. JEUDWIKE 



J/l/E combed voii out from happy silences 

 ' ' On thymey downs ; 



From stream-veined meadowlands alight with crowns 

 Of hiitterctips, where, for yoti, shapely trees 

 Made spacious canopies. 



Noiv {day and night) unsheltered, in the mud 



You droop and ache ; 

 While ruthless hands, for human purpose' sake, 

 Fashion the complex tools which spill your blood 



And ours in rising flood. 



No deputation [yet) your wage controls. 



Ungauged, unpaid 

 Your overtime. The war blast leaves no blade 

 Of green for you- — poor ghosts of happy foals ! — 



Munching your minished doles 

 In ravages by human frenzy made. 



