In Time Of The Breaking Of Nations

In Time Of "The Breaking Of Nations"
I
Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.
II
Only thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onwards the same
Though Dynasties pass.
III
Yonder a maid and her wight
Go whispering by:
War's annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.