WHEN I'm asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm, -- They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead. While the dim charging breakers of the storm Bellow and drone and rumble overhead, Out of the gloom they gather about my bed. They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine. 'Why are you here with all your watches ended? From Ypres to Frise we sought you in the Line.' In bitter safety I awake, unfriended; And while the dawn begins with slashing rain I think of the Battalion in the mud. 'When are you going out to them again? Are they not still your brothers through our blood?' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SEA-SPELL (FOR A PICTURE) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE FIRST DANDELION by WALT WHITMAN THE VEERY'S FLUTE by LUCY BRANCH ALLEN CHRISTMAS, 1917 by BRENT DOW ALLINSON TWELVE SONNETS: 4. LONELY SEASONS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) POSSESSED by RUTH FITCH BARTLETT FIAMMETTA: SONNET. TO DANTE IN PARADISE by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO |