Explore "The Destroyer" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ACROSS the quiet pastures of my soul / The invading army marched in splendid might / My few poor forces fled beyond control, / Scattered, defeated, hidden in the night.
My fields were green, their hedges white with May, / With gold of buttercups made bright and fair, / The careless conquerors did not even stay / To gather one of all the blossoms there.
Only when they had passed, the fields were brown, / The grass and blossoms trampled in the mud: / The flowering hedges withered and torn down, / And no one richer by a single bud.