THE boys come home, come home from war, With quiet eyes for quiet things— A child, a lamb, a flower, a star, A bird that softly sings. Young faces war-worn and deep-lined, The satin smoothness past recall; Yet out of sight is out of mind For the worst wrong of all. As nightmare dreams that pass with sleep, The horror and grief intolerable. The unremembering young eyes keep Their innocence. All is well! The worldling's eyes are dusty dim, The eyes of sin are weary and cold, The fighting boy brings home with him The unsullied eyes of old. The war has furrowed the young face. Oh, there's no all-heal, no wound-wort! The soul looks from its hidden place Unharmed, unflawed, unhurt. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR HOME THOUGHTS FROM EUROPE by HENRY VAN DYKE VERSES ADDRESSED TO IMITATOR OF FIRST SATIRE OF HORACE by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU BOX-CAR LETTERS by KARLE WILSON BAKER HERITAGE by THERESA VIRGINIA BEARD A CREW POEM by EDWARD AUGUSTUS BLOUNT JR. NOT YET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |