Propped on a stick he viewed the August weald; <br />Squat orchard trees and oasts with painted cowls; <br />A homely, tangled hedge, a corn-stalked field, <br />And sound of barking dogs and farmyard fowls. <br /> <br />And he’d come home again to find it more <br />Desirable than ever it was before. <br />How right it seemed that he should reach the span <br />Of comfortable years allowed to man! <br />Splendid to eat and sleep and choose a wife, <br />Safe with his wound, a citizen of life. <br />He hobbled blithely through the garden gate, <br />And thought: ‘Thank God they had to amputate!’<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-one-legged-man-2/
