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XCV
The Half-hour's Furlough
I THOUGHT that a man went home last night
From the trench where the tired men lie,
And walked through the streets of his own old town—
And I thought that man was I.
And I walked through the gates of that good old town
Which circles below the hill,
And laves its feet in the river fair
That floweth so full and still.
Gladly and gladly into my heart
Came the old street sounds and sights,
And pleasanter far than the Pleiades
Was the gleam of the old street lights.
And as I came by St. Mary's Tower,
The old, solemn bell struck ten,
And back to me echoed the memory
Of my boyhood days again:
Musing I turned me east about
To the haunt of my fellow-men.
224
