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Now limpt or dragg'd about our street The wounded men in blue, Trailing the feet which had been fleet, Or crutching one for two; Like ghosts of men past out of ken, Pale and uncertain-eyed, Whose gaze would flicker out, and then Come back with hasty pride.

What they had seen they never told, Nor what they had done: I saw young lads turn'd suddenly old; I saw the blind in the sun Look up to pray, as if the blue Was shapt like a cross: There came back one my husband knew, Spoke kindly of my loss.

He told me how my love was dead; He was not the first! Broadcast our land the word of dread Told women the worst. They say, let love and light be given So we keep Liberty; But I say there is no more Heaven If men must so be free.