Day after day we kept the dusty road,

And nearer came small-towered Jerusalem,

Nearer and nearer. Lightened of the goad,

Our beasts went on as if the air wafted them.

We saw the other troops with music move

Between the mountain meadows, far and clear,

Onward towards the city, and above

The ridge the fresh young firmament looked near.

All stood so silent in the silent air,

The little houses set on every hill,

A tree before each house. The people were

Tranquil, not sad nor glad. How they could till

Their simple fields, here, almost at the end,

Perplexed us. We were filled with dumb surprise

At wells and mills, and could not understand

This was an order natural and wise.

We looked away. Yet some of us declared:

“Let us stay here. We ask no more than this,”

Though we were now so close, we who had dared

Half the world’s spite to hit the mark of bliss.

So we went on to the end. But there we found

A dead land pitted with blind whirling places

And crowds of angry men who held their ground

With blank blue eyes and raging rubicund faces.

We drew our swords and in our minds we saw

The streets of the holy city running with blood,

And centuries of fear and power and awe,

And all our children in the deadly wood.