DEFIANCE
I saw the orchards whitening
To Easter in late Lent.
Now struck of hell’s own lightning
With branches broken and bent
Behold the tall trees rent:—
Beaten with iron rain!
And ever in my brain
To every shell that’s sent
Sounds back this small refrain:—
“You foolish shells, come kill me,
Blacken my limbs with flame:
I saw the English orchards
(And so may die content)
All white before I came!”