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Nero Watts
Seems as I lay
My placard down
Some other, with some other guess crown
Has found some banner, or cut one down
And wrapt it in thunder
Or flung it down
On the blood spattered ground
He rankled and waves
We’re stocking the graves
With sons and brothers
From us and some others
Sons who smiled
And waved at flies
Instead of break basking boulders by |