A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/Memories

by Edward Hilton Young

For works with similar titles, see Memories.

MEMORIES

FAR up at Glorian the wind is sighing.
And, as the light grows less,
Across the downland sounds the plovers' crying,
The voice of loneliness.

Thither, from this sad waste of waters streaming,
All the unending night,
My heart returns, to see by Kennet gleaming
One cottage window-light.

Yet for your sake it is that I must roam now,
Dear lands, dear lads I know;
I love you so, I could not stay at home now,
Nor pay the debt I owe.

E. Hilton Young