A Letter From the Trenches to a School Friend

And soon, oh soon, I do not doubt it,

With the body or without it,

We shall all come tumbling down

To our old wrinkled red-capped town.

Perhaps the road up llsley way,

The old ridge-track, will be my way.

High up among the sheep and sky,

Look down on Wantage, passing by,

And see the smoke from Swindon town;

And then full left at Liddington,

Where the four winds of heaven meet

The earth-blest traveller to greet.

And then my face is toward the south,

There is a singing on my mouth

Away to rightward I descry

My Barbury ensconced in sky,