English poem
Back to Rest
by William Noel Hodgson (1893–1916)
A leaping wind from England, The skies without a stain, Clean cut against the morning Slim poplars after rain, The foolish noise of sparrows And starlings in a wood— After the grime of battle We know that these are good.
Death whining down from Heaven, Death roaring from the ground, Death stinking in the nostril, Death shrill in every sound, Doubting, we charged and conquered— Hopeless we struck and stood. Now when the fight is ended We know that it was good.