Explore "The Observers" by Gilbert Frankau on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ere the last light that leaps the night has hung and shone and / died, / While yet the breast-high fog of dawn is swathed about the / plain, / By hedge and track our slaves go back, the waning stars for / guide, / Eyes of our mouths; the mists have cleared, the guns would / speak again!
Faint on the ears that strain to hear, their orders trickle down / "Degrees -- twelve -- left of zero line -- corrector one three / eight -- / Three thousand. ". Shift our trails and lift the muzzles that / shall drown / The rifle's idle chatter when our sendings detonate.