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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519023" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Redeemer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Darkness: the rain sluiced down; the mire was deep; <br>It was past twelve on a mid-winter night, <br>When peaceful folk in beds lay snug asleep; <br>There, with much work to do before the light, <br>We lugged our clay-sucked boots as best we might <br>Along the trench; sometimes a bullet sang, <br>And droning shells burst with a hollow bang; <br>We were soaked, chilled and wretched, every one; <br>Darkness; the distant wink of a huge gun. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I turned in the black ditch, loathing the storm; <br>A rocket fizzed and burned with blanching flare, <br>And lit the face of what had been a form <br>Floundering in mirk. He stood before me there; <br>I say that He was Christ; stiff in the glare, <br>And leaning forward from His burdening task, <br>Both arms supporting it; His eyes on mine <br>Stared from the woeful head that seemed a mask <br>Of mortal pain in Hell's unholy shine. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No thorny crown, only a woollen cap <br>He wore--an English soldier, white and strong, <br>Who loved his time like any simple chap, <br>Good days of work and sport and homely song; <br>Now he has learned that nights are very long, <br>And dawn a watching of the windowed sky. <br>But to the end, unjudging, he'll endure <br>Horror and pain, not uncontent to die </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That Lancaster on Lune may stand secure. <br>He faced me, reeling in his weariness, <br>Shouldering his load of planks, so hard to bear. <br>I say that He was Christ, who wrought to bless <br>All groping things with freedom bright as air, <br>And with His mercy washed and made them fair. <br>Then the flame sank, and all grew black as pitch, <br>While we began to struggle along the ditch; <br>And someone flung his burden in the muck, <br>Mumbling: 'O Christ Almighty, now I'm stuck!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Siegfried+Sassoon">Siegfried Sassoon</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=519023" data-title="The Redeemer de Siegfried Sassoon" data-description="Darkness: the rain sluiced down; the mire was deep; 
It was past twelve on a mid-winter night, 
When peaceful folk in beds lay snug asleep; 
There, with much work to do before the light, 
We lugged our clay-sucked boots as best we might 
Along the..."></div>
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