Poem stolen from oursin

Will it be so again
That the brave, the gifted are lost from view,
And empty, scheming men
Are left in peace their lunatic age to renew?
Will it be so again?

Must it be always so
That the best are chosen to fall and sleep
Like seeds, and we too slow
In claiming the earth they quicken, and the old usurpers reap
What they could not sow?

Will it be so again -
The jungle code and the hypocrite gesture?
A poppy wreath for the slain
And a cut-throat world for the living? That stale imposture
Played on us once again

Will it be as before -
Peace, with no heart or mind to ensue it,
Guttering down to war
Like a libertine to his grave? We should not be surprised: we knew it
Happen before.

Shall it be so again?
Call not upon the glorious dead
To be your witness then.
The living alone can nail their promise to the ones who said
It shall not be so again.

Cecil Day Lewis, in Word Over All (1942)