| Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Cornhuskers. 1918. |
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| 100. A Million Young Workmen, 1915 |
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| A MILLION young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads, | |
| And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red roses. | |
| Yes, this million of young workmen slaughtered one another and never saw their red hands. | |
| And oh, it would have been a great job of killing and a new and beautiful thing under the sun if the million knew why they hacked and tore each other to death. | |
| The kings are grinning, the kaiser and the czar—they are alive riding in leather-seated motor cars, and they have their women and roses for ease, and they eat fresh-poached eggs for breakfast, new butter on toast, sitting in tall water-tight houses reading the news of war. | 5 |
| I dreamed a million ghosts of the young workmen rose in their shirts all soaked in crimson … and yelled: | |
God damn the grinning kings, God damn the kaiser and the czar.
Chicago, 1915. | |
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