When I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,–They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead.While the dim charging breakers of the stormBellow and drone and rumble overhead,Out of the gloom they gather about my bed.They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine.“Why are you here with all your watches ended?From Ypres to Frise we […]

Shaken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake,Out in the trench with three hours’ watch to take,I blunder through the splashing mirk; and thenHear the gruff muttering voices of the menCrouching in cabins candle-chinked with light.Hark! There’s the big bombardment on our rightRumbling and bumping; and the dark’s a glareOf flickering horror in the sectors […]

There seemed a smell of autumn in the airAt the bleak end of night; he shivered thereIn a dank, musty dug-out where he lay,Legs wrapped in sand-bags,–lumps of chalk and claySpattering his face. Dry-mouthed, he thought, “To-dayWe start the damned attack; and, Lord knows why,Zero’s at nine; how bloody if I’m done inUnder the freedom […]

You love us when we’re heroes, home on leave,Or wounded in a mentionable place.You worship decorations; you believeThat chivalry redeems the war’s disgrace.You make us shells. You listen with delight,By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled.You crown our distant ardours while we fight,And mourn our laurelled memories when we’re killed.You can’t believe that British […]

Not much to me is yonder laneWhere I go every day;But when there’s been a shower of rainAnd hedge-birds whistle gay,I know my lad that’s out in FranceWith fearsome things to seeWould give his eyes for just one glanceAt our white hawthorn tree.* * * * *Not much to me is yonder laneWhere he so […]

He’s got a Blighty wound. He’s safe; and thenWar’s fine and bold and bright.She can forget the doomed and prisoned menWho agonize and fight. He’s back in France. She loathes the listless strainAnd peril of his plight.Beseeching Heaven to send him home again,She prays for peace each night. Husbands and sons and lovers; everywhereThey die; […]

God with a Roll of Honour in His handSits welcoming the heroes who have died,While sorrowless angels ranked on either sideStand easy in Elysium’s meadow-land.Then you come shyly through the garden gate,Wearing a blood-soaked bandage on your head;And God says something kind because you’re dead,And homesick, discontented with your fate. If I were there we’d […]

If I were fierce, and bald, and short of breath,I’d live with scarlet Majors at the Base,And speed glum heroes up the line to death.You’d see me with my puffy petulant face,Guzzling and gulping in the best hotel,Reading the Roll of Honour. “Poor young chap,”I’d say–“I used to know his father well;Yes, we’ve lost heavily […]

“Good-morning; good-morning!” the General saidWhen we met him last week on our way to the line.Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.“He’s a cheery old card,” grunted Harry to JackAs they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.* * * * *But he […]

I found him in the guard-room at the Base.From the blind darkness I had heard his cryingAnd blundered in. With puzzled, patient faceA sergeant watched him; it was no good tryingTo stop it; for he howled and beat his chest.And, all because his brother had gone West,Raved at the bleeding war; his rampant griefMoaned, shouted, […]

Does it matter?–losing your leg? …For people will always be kind,And you need not show that you mindWhen the others come in after huntingTo gobble their muffins and eggs. Does it matter?–losing your sight? …There’s such splendid work for the blind;And people will always be kind,As you sit on the terrace rememberingAnd turning your face […]

The boys came back. Bands played and flags were flying,And Yellow-Pressmen thronged the sunlit streetTo cheer the soldiers who’d refrained from dying,And hear the music of returning feet.“Of all the thrills and ardours War has brought,This moment is the finest.” (So they thought.) Snapping their bayonets on to charge the mob,Grim Fusiliers broke ranks with […]

He seemed so certain “all was going well,”As he discussed the glorious time he’d hadWhile visiting the trenches.“One can tellYou’ve gathered big impressions!” grinned the ladWho’d been severely wounded in the backIn some wiped-out impossible Attack.“Impressions? Yes, most vivid! I am writingA little book called Europe on the Rack,Based on notes made while witnessing the […]

I knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum,With crumps and lice and lack of rum,He put a bullet through his brain.No one spoke of him again.* * * * *You snug-faced crowds with kindling eyeWho […]

Snug at the club two fathers sat,Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat.One of them said: “My eldest ladWrites cheery letters from Bagdad.But Arthur’s getting all the funAt Arras with his nine-inch gun.” “Yes,” wheezed the other, “that’s the luck!My boy’s quite broken-hearted, stuckIn England training all this year.Still, if there’s truth in what we hear,The […]

His wet, white face and miserable eyes Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs: But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell His troubled voice: he did the business well. The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining, And calling out for “Dickie.” “Curse the Wood! It’s time to go; O […]

Quietly they set their burden down: he tried To grin; moaned; moved his head from side to side. * * * * * He gripped the stretcher; stiffened; glared; and screamed, “O put my leg down, doctor, do!” (He’d got A bullet in his ankle; and he’d been shot Horribly through the guts.) The surgeon […]

I stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still: When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead. And my slow heart said, “You must kill; you must kill: Soldier, soldier, morning is red.” On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace I stared for a while through the thin cold rain…. “O […]

Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled, And one arm bent across your sullen cold Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you, Deep-shadow’d from the candle’s guttering gold; And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder; Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head…. You are too young […]

“Fall in! Now, get a move on!” (Curse the rain.) We splash away along the straggling village, Out to the flat rich country green with June…. And sunset flares across wet crops and tillage, Blazing with splendour-patches. Harvest soon Up in the Line. “Perhaps the War’ll be done By Christmas-time. Keep smiling then, old son!” […]