William Owen - The Send Off

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The Send-off
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1 of 21
Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
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To the siding-shed,
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And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
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Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray
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As men's are, dead.
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Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp
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Stood staring hard,
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Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.
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Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp
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Winked to the guard.
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So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
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They were not ours:
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We never heard to which front these were sent.
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Nor there if they yet mock what women meant
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Who gave them flowers.
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Shall they return to beatings of great bells
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In wild trainloads?
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A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
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May creep back, silent, to still village wells
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Up half-known roads.
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21 of 21

Other cards in this set

Card 2

Front

Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way

Back

________________________________________________________

Card 3

Front

To the siding-shed,

Back

Preview of the front of card 3

Card 4

Front

And lined the train with faces grimly gay.

Back

Preview of the front of card 4

Card 5

Front

Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray

Back

Preview of the front of card 5
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