In midnight sleep of many a face of anguish, Of the look at first of the mortally wounded, (of that indescribable look,) Of the dead on their backs with arms extended wide, I dream, I dream, I dream. Of scenes of Nature, fields and mountains, Of skies so beauteous after a storm, and at night the moon so unearthly bright, Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches and gather the heaps, I dream, I dream, I dream. Lond have they pass'd, faces and trenches and fields, Where through the carnage I moved with a callous composure, or away from the fallen, Onward I sped at the time -- but now of their forms at night, I dream, I dream, I dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORABILIA by ROBERT BROWNING DELIGHT IN DISORDER by ROBERT HERRICK ENGLAND IN 1819 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT by JONATHAN SWIFT LOCKSLEY HALL SIXTY YEARS AFTER by ALFRED TENNYSON |