Behind us lay the homely shore <br />With youthful memories aureoled; <br />A sky of dazzling blue before, <br />We sailed a sea of molten gold. <br /> <br />To our old haven we return; <br />By smoky hills as grey as mud <br />We see the sullen sunset burn <br />Malignant on a lake of blood. <br /> <br />Yes, we return: but memory roams <br />A foul, bleak age of pain that yields <br />The smoke and flame of ruined homes, <br />The muck of cannon-pitted fields.<br /><br />John Le Gay Brereton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/transports/
