Regrets After Death

True on the Plain I might have seen Salisbury Close,
But how that would have repaid there is no one knows,
True at Epping I might have thanked kindness more,
But we were for France then—scarce a week to be here.
At Chelmsford, true I might have kept my first lodging
Despite of cooking 'cause she did my washing.
But since no more of France I saw than three
Weeks, and had no more honour of battle than the
One name, the still line of East Laventie,
Regrets and hopes and accusations are all vain.
Chelmsford was bad, Hell-upon-Army the Plain,
Epping had compensations, Northampton kindness, invitations.
They buried me in Artois, with no time to complain.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.