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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409135" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lincolnshire Bomber Station</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Across the road the homesick Romans made<br>The ground-mist thickens to a milky shroud;<br>Through flat, damp fields call sheep, mourning their dead<br>In cracked and timeless voices, unutterably sad,<br>Suffering for all the world, in Lincolnshire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I wonder how the Romans liked it here;<br>Flat fields, no sun, the muddy misty dawn,<br>And always, above all, the mad rain dripping down,<br>Rusting sword and helmet, wetting the feet<br>And soaking to the bone, down to the very heart . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Treece">Henry Treece</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409135" data-title="Lincolnshire Bomber Station de Henry Treece" data-description="Across the road the homesick Romans made
The ground-mist thickens to a milky shroud;
Through flat, damp fields call sheep, mourning their dead
In cracked and timeless voices, unutterably sad,
Suffering for all the world, in Lincolnshire.

And I wo..."></div>
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