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A Returning Soldier Speaks

I am coming back with a singing soul through the surge of the splendid sea,
Coming back to the land called home, and the love that used to be--
I am coming back through a flash of spray, through a conquered tempest's hum,
I am coming back, I am coming back.... But, God, do I want to come?

 

I have heard the shriek of the great shells speak to the dawn of a flaming day;
And a growling gun when the fight was won, and the twilight flickered gray,
I have seen men die with their chins raised high, and a curse that was half a prayer--
I have fought alone when a comrade's groan was tense on the blinding air.

 

I have tramped a road when a burning load was strapped to my aching back,
Through miles of mud that was streaked with blood, when my closing eyes turned back--
I have cried aloud to a heedless crowd of a God that they could not know,
And have knelt at night when the way was bright with a rocket's sullen glow.

 

I am going home through the whirling foam--home to her arms stretched wide--
I am going back to the beaten track and the sheltered fireside,
With grasping breath I have sneered at death, and have mocked at a shell's swift whirr,
And safe again, through the years of pain, I am going back--to her!

 

I am coming back with a singing soul through the surge of the splendid sea,
Coming back--but my singing soul will never be quite free--
For I have killed, and my heart has thrilled to the call of the battle hum....
I am coming back to the used-to-be--But, God, do I want to come?