Wounded Soldiers

HOLLOW cheeks and tired faces, Eyes that saw the earth's waste places; Yet, on heights serene, afar, Vision still the glory star. Thus they follow from the war— Follow, follow, faces hollow, Follow, homeward, from the war!

NOW the city gates they're nearing, And the long streets rock with cheering Pent up in those waiting hours; Ushered by a rain of flowers Come these damaged barques of war, Flag a-wave o'er broken spar! Pain-stark hours drowned in flowers! Harbour greetings — after war!

HOLLOW cheeks and brown, lined faces, Oh! they wear a thousand graces! Conquerors in a triumph car! These, who bore the brunt of war, Urge you to those fields afar, And cry: "Follow, follow, follow In MEN'S footsteps — to the war!"