Going Over

A girl's voice in the night troubled my heart. Across the roar of the guns, the crash of the shells, Low and soft as a sigh, clearly I heard it.

Where was the broken parapet, crumbling about me? Where my shadowy comrades, crouching expectant? A girl's voice in the dark troubled my heart.

A dream was the ooze of the trench, the wet clay slipping, A dream the sudden out-flare of the wide-flung Verys. I saw but a garden of lilacs, a-flower in the dusk.

What was the sergeant saying?—I passed it along.— Did I pass it along? I was breathing the breath of the lilacs. For a girl's voice in the night troubled my heart.

Over! How the mud sucks! Vomits red the barrage. But I am far off in the hush of a garden of lilacs. For a girl's voice in the night troubled my heart. Tender and soft as a sigh, clearly I heard it.