Dreamers
Siegfried Sassoon
Soldiers are citizens of death’s grey land, Drawing no dividend from time’s to-morrows. In the great hour of destiny they stand, Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows. Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives. Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives. I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats, And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain, Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats, And mocked by hopeless longing to regain Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats, And going to the office in the train.
Next 10 Poems
- Siegfried Sassoon : Dream-forest
- Siegfried Sassoon : Dryads
- Siegfried Sassoon : Editorial Impressions
- Siegfried Sassoon : Elegy
- Siegfried Sassoon : Enemies
- Siegfried Sassoon : Everyone Sang
- Siegfried Sassoon : Falling Asleep
- Siegfried Sassoon : Fancy Dress
- Siegfried Sassoon : Fight To A Finish
- Siegfried Sassoon : France
Previous 10 Poems
- Siegfried Sassoon : Does It Matter?
- Siegfried Sassoon : Died Of Wounds
- Siegfried Sassoon : Devotion To Duty
- Siegfried Sassoon : Dead Musicians
- Siegfried Sassoon : Daybreak In A Garden
- Siegfried Sassoon : David Cleek
- Siegfried Sassoon : Counter-attack
- Siegfried Sassoon : Conscripts
- Siegfried Sassoon : Concert Party
- Siegfried Sassoon : Companions