Here, where Vespasian's legions struck the sands, <br />And Cerdic with his Saxons entered in, <br />And Henry's army leapt afloat to win <br />Convincing triumphs over neighbour lands, <br /> <br />Vaster battalions press for further strands, <br />To argue in the self-same bloody mode <br />Which this late age of thought, and pact, and code, <br />Still fails to mend.--Now deckward tramp the bands, <br />Yellow as autumn leaves, alive as spring; <br />And as each host draws out upon the sea <br />Beyond which lies the tragical To-be, <br />None dubious of the cause, none murmuring, <br /> <br />Wives, sisters, parents, wave white hands and smile, <br />As if they knew not that they weep the while.<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/embarcation-southampton-docks-october-1899/
