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BACK TO LONDON

A POEM OF LEAVE

I have not wept when I have seen
My stricken comrades die;
I have not wept when we have made
The place where they should lie;
My heart seemed drowned in tears, but still
No tear came to my eye.

There is a time to weep, saith One,
A season to refrain;
How should it ope, this fount of tears,
While I sate in the train,
So that all blurred the landscape moved
Outwith the window pane?

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