"Soldier, knowest thou the land The land that's home to thee?" "Stranger, with the voice not strange, Why do you lean to me, A wounded man, and put a word That mocks my memory?" "Soldier, I am from that land, The land that's home to thee." "O stranger with the gentle hands, Now let your pity be. You have no word what land is mine, Your closed eyes cannot see As mine, as mine, the land of lands, The land where I would be." "I see a field of apple trees That top a furrowed hill, A little house, a little room, A flowered window sill. A woman with a face like thine, But eyes more sweet and still, Who prays across the gathered dusk To guard her child from ill." "My God, my God, I fear to look Lest there be no man by! If this be but a fever dream O let me sleep and die And never know a blessed ghost From home had heard my cry." "See me, touch me, let thy head On my bosom weigh. This, the kiss your mother sent, That on your lips I lay." "Yes -- it is hers -- no other drives The awful pain away -- I think -- that I could fall asleep -- If you -- would only -- stay." "Rest thee, rest thee on my breast, Let the deep sleep come. Rest thee, rest thee, soldier lad, Time is past to roam. Waking, I shall still be near, And we shall be at home." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HERACLES AND MELEAGER by BACCHYLIDES THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 106. THE SUBLIME: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 1 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH JERUSALEM by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD BENEDICTION by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: FATIMA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |