Page:Marlborough and other poems, Sorley, 1919.djvu/21

 I

BARBURY CAMP

burrowed night and day with tools of lead,

Heaped the bank up and cast it in a ring

And hurled the earth above. And Caesar said,

"Why, it is excellent. I like the thing."

We, who are dead,

Made it, and wrought, and Caesar liked the thing.

And here we strove, and here we felt each vein

Ice-bound, each limb fast-frozen, all night long.

And here we held communion with the rain

That lashed us into manhood with its thong,

Cleansing through pain.

And the wind visited us and made us strong.

Up from around us, numbers without name,

Strong men and naked, vast, on either hand

Pressing us in, they came. And the wind came

And bitter rain, turning grey all the land.

That was our game,

To fight with men and storms, and it was grand.

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