The Immortals

Item

Title

Description

I killed them, but they would not die.
Yea! all the day and all the night
For them I could not rest nor sleep,
Nor guard from them nor hide in flight
Then in my agony I turned
And made my hands red in their gore.
In vain---for faster than I slew
They rose more cruel than before.
I killed and killed with slaughter mad;
I killed till all my strength was gone.
And still they rose to torture me,
For Devils only die for fun.
I used to think the Devil hid
In women's smiles and wine's carouse.
I called him Satan, Balzebub.
But now I call him dirty louse.

Identifier

3295.txt

Creator

Rosenberg, Isaac (1890-1918)

Date

1977

Date Created

1977-01-01

Temporal Coverage

1977-12-31

Type

Poem

Publisher

The First World War Poetry Digital Archive

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