1 After the burial-parties leave And the baffled kites have fled; The wise hyænas come out at eve To take account of our dead. 2 How he died and why he died Troubles them not a whit. They snout the bushes and stones aside And dig till they come to it. 3 They are only resolute they shall eat That they and their mates may thrive, And they know that the dead are safer meat Than the weakest thing alive. 4 (For a goat may butt, and a worm may sting, And a child will sometimes stand; But a poor dead soldier of the King Can never lift a hand.) 5 They whoop and halloo and scatter the dirt Until their tushes white Take good hold in the army shirt, And tug the corpse to light, 6 And the pitiful face is shewn again For an instant ere they close; But it is not discovered to living men— Only to God and to those 7 Who, being soulless, are free from shame, Whatever meat they may find. Nor do they defile the dead man’s name— That is reserved for his kind.
Choose another poem