"THERE'S something in the air," he said In the large parlour cool and bare; The plain words in his hearers bred A tumult, yet in silence there All waited; wryly gay, he left the phrase, Ordered the march and bade us go our ways. "We're going South, man"; as he spoke The howitzer with huge ping-bang Racked the light hut; as thus he broke The death-news, bright the skylarks sang; He took his riding-crop and humming went Among the apple-trees all bloom and scent. Now far withdraws the roaring night Which wrecked our flower after the first Of those two voices; misty light Shrouds Thiepval Wood and all its worst: But still "There's something in the air" I hear, And still "We're going South, man," deadly near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS ON A THEME: ROMANCE by EDITH SITWELL ADDRESS TO A STEAM-VESSEL by JOANNA BAILLIE THE OLD TRAMP by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER WARNING TO TROOPS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE MANX WITCH; A STORY OF THE LAXDALE MINES by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |