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Siegfried Sassoon

Sick Leave

WHEN I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,—
They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead.
While the dim charging breakers of the storm
Bellow and drone and rumble overhead,
Out of the gloom they gather about my bed.
    They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine.
    ‘Why are you here with all your watches ended?
    From Ypres to Frise we sought you in the Line.’
In bitter safety I awake, unfriended;
And while the dawn begins with slashing rain
I think of the Battalion in the mud.
‘When are you going out to them again?
Are they not still your brothers through our blood?’

About the poet
Siegfried Sassoon
 
By the same poet
Does It Matter?
Counter-Attack
Ancient History
Dreamers
Absolution
‘Blighters’
Everyone Sang
Base Details
Glory of Women
The General
The Last Meeting
The Poet as Hero
Survivors
Suicide in the Trenches
To Any Dead Officer
The Hero
Aftermath
Attack
The Dug-Out
 
Related books
Siegfried Sassoon at amazon.co.uk

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