A sudden and precipitate crash
Of hailstones large, like bullets pitilessly
Shot down the trees of Spring and lovely flowers,
And on the lawn lay strewn long, murdered lines
Of leaves, the young and tender leaves--I thought
How swift, with leaden drop, they fell! Even so
On other fields . . . the young and tender leaves.
The comparison between human and plant life is too explicit, and the phrasing awkward ("murdered lines of leaves"); yet, in its emphasis on human suffering without differentiating between ally and enemy, and in the tone of sorrow and the sense of futility and waste, the poem moves away from traditional platitudes about war towards the more modern attitudes of society.
VickiCD
