In Flanders Fields and Other Poems/Anarchy

For works with similar titles, see Anarchy.

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Anarchy  (1897)  John McCrae

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Anarchy

          

I saw a city filled with lust and shame,  Where men, like wolves, slunk through the grim half-light; And sudden, in the midst of it, there came  One who spoke boldly for the cause of Right. And speaking, fell before that brutish race  Like some poor wren that shrieking eagles tear, While brute Dishonour, with her bloodless face  Stood by and smote his lips that moved in prayer. "Speak not of God!  In centuries that word  Hath not been uttered!  Our own king are we." And God stretched forth his finger as He heard  And o'er it cast a thousand leagues of sea.