<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Going of the Battery Wives. (Lament)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O it was sad enough, weak enough, mad enough - <br>Light in their loving as soldiers can be - <br>First to risk choosing them, leave alone losing them <br>Now, in far battle, beyond the South Sea! . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">- Rain came down drenchingly; but we unblenchingly <br>Trudged on beside them through mirk and through mire, <br>They stepping steadily--only too readily! - <br>Scarce as if stepping brought parting-time nigher. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Great guns were gleaming there, living things seeming there, <br>Cloaked in their tar-cloths, upmouthed to the night; <br>Wheels wet and yellow from axle to felloe, <br>Throats blank of sound, but prophetic to sight. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gas-glimmers drearily, blearily, eerily <br>Lit our pale faces outstretched for one kiss, <br>While we stood prest to them, with a last quest to them <br>Not to court perils that honour could miss. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">V </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sharp were those sighs of ours, blinded these eyes of ours, <br>When at last moved away under the arch <br>All we loved. Aid for them each woman prayed for them, <br>Treading back slowly the track of their march. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Someone said: &quot;Nevermore will they come: evermore <br>Are they now lost to us.&quot; O it was wrong! <br>Though may be hard their ways, some Hand will guard their ways, <br>Bear them through safely, in brief time or long. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">- Yet, voices haunting us, daunting us, taunting us, <br>Hint in the night-time when life beats are low <br>Other and graver things . . . Hold we to braver things, <br>Wait we, in trust, what Time's fulness shall show.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=529631" data-title="The Going of the Battery Wives. (Lament) de Thomas Hardy" data-description="I O it was sad enough, weak enough, mad enough - Light in their loving as soldiers can be - First to risk choosing them, leave alone losing them Now, in far battle, beyond the South Sea! . . . II - Rain came down drenchingly; but we unble..."></div> </div> </div>

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