Breastwork Quotes

Tired with dull grief, grown old before my day, I sit in solitude and only hear Long silent laughters, murmurings of dismay, The lost intensities of hope and fear; In those old marshes yet the rifles lie, On the thin breastwork flutter the grey rags, The very books I read are there-and I Dead as the men I loved, wait while life drags. (Edmund Charles Blunden)