The Burning Marl


J. Le Gay Brereton

BEHIND us lay the homely shore
    With youthful memories aureoled;
A sky of dazzling blue before,
    We sailed a sea of molten gold.

To our old haven we return;
    By smoky hills as grey as mud
We see the sullen sunset burn
    Malignant on a lake of blood.

Yes, we return: but memory roams
    A foul, bleak age of pain that yields
The smoke and flame of ruined homes,
    The muck of cannon-pitted fields.

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