<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529458" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At the War Office, London.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Last year I called this world of gain-givings <br>The darkest thinkable, and questioned sadly <br>If my own land could heave its pulse less gladly, <br>So charged it seemed with circumstance whence springs <br> The tragedy of things. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet at that censured time no heart was rent <br>Or feature blanched of parent, wife, or daughter <br>By hourly blazoned sheets of listed slaughter; <br>Death waited Nature's wont; Peace smiled unshent <br> From Ind to Occident.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529458" data-title="At the War Office, London. de Thomas Hardy" data-description="I Last year I called this world of gain-givings The darkest thinkable, and questioned sadly If my own land could heave its pulse less gladly, So charged it seemed with circumstance whence springs The tragedy of things. II Yet at that ce..."></div> </div> </div>

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