War, the Liberator, and Other Pieces/From Home. Cambridge

by Ewart Alan Mackintosh

Layout 2

 

FROM HOME

Cambridge

HERE there is peace and easy living,And a warm fire when the rain is driving,There is no sound of strong men striving,Here where the quiet waters flow,But I am hearing the bullets ringing,Hearing the great shells onward winging,The dead men’s voices are singing, singing,  And I must rise and go.

Here there is ease and comfort for me,A warm soft bed and a good roof o’er me—Here may be there is fame before me,Honour and fame for all I know,But I am seeing the thick rain falling,Seeing the tired patrols out crawling,The dead men’s voices are calling, calling,  And I must rise and go.

Back to the trench that I see so clearly,Back to the fight I can see so nearly,Back to the friends that I love so dearly,The dead men lying amid the dew,The droning sound of the great shells flying,Filth and honour, and pain, and dying—Dead friends of mine, oh, cease your crying,  For I come back to you.