“Question” by Iris Tree


And afterwards, when honour has made good,
And all you think you fight for shall take place,
A late rejoicing to a crippled race;
The bulldog's teeth relax and snap for food,
The eagles fly to their forsaken brood,
Within the ravaged nest. When no disgrace
Shall spread a blush cross the haggard face
Of anxious Pride, already flushed with blood.


Iris Tree's poem "Question" was published in the second "cycle" of the Wheels anthology in 1917. To read (or listen) this poem in full, follow the links to digitized versions of this publication below:


The Modernist Journals Project

Librivox Audio Recording