Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat. <br /> Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar. <br />We have been here for ever: even yet <br /> A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more. <br />The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet <br /> With a night's foetor. There are two hours more; <br />Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours yet. <br />Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore. . . . <br /> <br />One of them wakes, and spits, and sleeps again. <br /> The darkness shivers. A wan light through the rain <br />Strikes on our faces, drawn and white. Somewhere <br /> A new day sprawls; and, inside, the foul air <br />Is chill, and damp, and fouler than before. . . . <br />Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore.<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dawn-3/
