SONG OF THE SOLDIERS’ WIVES

By Thomas Hardy

At last! In sight of home again,

Of home again;

No more to range and roam again

As at that bygone time?

No more to go away from us

And stay from us? -

Dawn, hold not long the day from us,

But quicken it to prime!

Now all the town shall ring to them,

Shall ring to them,

And we who love them cling to them

And clasp them joyfully;

And cry, “O much we'll do for you

Anew for you,

Dear Loves!— aye, draw and hew for you,

Come back from oversea.”

Some told us we should meet no more,

Should meet no more;

Should wait, and wish, but greet no more

Your faces round our fires;

That, in a while, uncharily

And drearily

Men gave their lives — even wearily,

Like those whom living tires.

And now you are nearing home again,

Dears, home again;

No more, may be, to roam again

As at that bygone time,

Which took you far away from us

To stay from us;

Dawn, hold not long the day from us,

But quicken it to prime!