I heard the challenge 'Who goes there?' <br />Close kept but mine through midnight air <br />I answered and was recognized <br />And passed, and kindly thus advised; <br />'There's someone crawling though the grass <br />By the red ruin, or there was, <br />And them machine guns been a firin' <br />All the time the chaps was wirin', <br />So Sir if you're goin' out <br />You'll keep you 'ead well down no doubt.' <br /> <br />When will the stern fine 'Who goes there?' <br />Meet me again in midnight air? <br />And the gruff sentry's kindness, when <br />Will kindness have such power again? <br />It seems as, now I wake and brood, <br />And know my hour's decreptitude, <br />That on some dewy parapet <br />the sentry's spirit gazes yet, <br />Who will not speak with altered tone <br />When I am last am seem and known.<br /><br />Edmund Blunden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-watchers-6/
