SHAKEN from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake, Out in the trench with three hours' watch to take, I blunder through the splashing mirk; and then Hear the gruff muttering voices of the men Crouching in cabins candle-chinked with light. Hark! There's the big bombardment on our right Rumbling and bumping; and the dark's a glare Of flickering horror in the sectors where We raid the Boche; men waiting, stiff and chilled, Or crawling on their bellies through the wire. 'What? Stretcher-bearers wanted? Some one killed?' Five minutes ago I heard a sniper fire: Why did he do it? ... Starlight overhead -- Blank stars. I'm wide-awake; and some chap's dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOURNEY ONWARDS by THOMAS MOORE INTO THE TWILIGHT by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS HASCHEESH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PENTRIDGE BY THE RIVER by WILLIAM BARNES PRESENTIMENT by AMBROSE BIERCE THE DISTURBED WASP; TO WILLIAM BEEBE by ANNE MILLAY BREMER |