Not, Father, Further Do Prolong

Not, Father, further do prolong 
  Our necessary defeat;
Spare us the numbing zero-hour, 
  The desert-long retreat.

Against Your direct light, displayed, 
  Regardant, absolute,
In person stubborn and oblique 
  We set our maddened foot.

These nissen huts, if hide we could 
  Your eye inseeing from,
Firm fenders were, but lo! to us
  Your loosened angers come.

Against Your accusations 
  Though ready wit devise, 
Nor magic countersigns prevail 
  Nor airy sacrifice.

Weaker we are, and strict within 
  Your organized blockade,
And from our desperate shore the last 
  Few pallid youngsters fade.

Be not another than our hope; 
  Expect we routed shall
Upon your peace; with ray disarm, 
  Illumine, and not kill.