More specifically, I found myself really admiring the opening spondees in the first two lines. I can't help but read those lines with something of a sneer, in part because of that insistent rhythm at the beginning of those lines.
Also, the following lines were compelling:
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. (13-14)
As I reread the poem, I the words "panes" and "thick green light" for some reason linked in my brain with the media-saturated nature of our current war. In a way, we're all watching kids die through the "misty panes" and "thick green light" of our television sets. Except, of course, that we're not. We're not watching kids die. We see explosions and bombing raids, but we're isolated from the not only the dangers, but also the meaningful perception of those dangers. We don't have to walk along "behind the wagon," and thus we remain--over 80 years later--still willing to tell our kids that "It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country." For sure, we say so with less enthusiasm than we might in another time, but the message is largely the same.
gad
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