THE barrack-square, washed clean with rain, Shines wet and wintry-grey and cold. Young Fusiliers, strong-legged and bold, March and wheel and march again. The sun looks over the barrack gate, Warm and white with glaring shine, To watch the soldiers of the Line That life has hired to fight with fate. Fall out: the long parades are done. Up comes the dark; down goes the sun. The square is walled with windowed light. Sleep well, you lusty Fusiliers; Shut your brave eyes on sense and sight, And banish from your dreamless ears The bugle's dying notes that say, 'Another night; another day.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANOTHER FRANCIS OF ASSISI by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER PASTEL by MARSDON GILFORD ALBRITTON GRACE AND STRENGTH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE WORD OF SUMMER by ELSA BARKER THE APPEAL TO HAROLD by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER WATER JEWELS by MARY FRANCES MARSHALL BUTTS WASHING SHEEP IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |