For those slain at once. For those living through the months and years Enduring, watching, hoping, going each day To the work or the queue for meat o… - Stephen Vincent Benét

Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil...

I stumbled, slipped... and all was gone That I had gained. Once more I lay Before the long bright Hell of ice. And still the light was far away. There was red mist before my eyes Or I could tell you how I went Across the swaying firmament, A glittering torture of cold stars, And how I fought in Titan wars... And died... and lived again upon The rack... and how the horses strain When their red task is nearly done. . . <p> I only know that there was Pain, Infinite and eternal Pain. And that I fell — and rose again.

She stood there, and at once I knew The bitter thing that I must do. There could be no surrender now; Though Sleep and Death were whispering low.