At Carnoy

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Title:     At Carnoy
Author: Siegfried Sassoon [More Titles by Sassoon]

Down in the hollow there's the whole Brigade
Camped in four groups: through twilight falling slow
I hear a sound of mouth-organs, ill-played,
And murmur of voices, gruff, confused, and low.
Crouched among thistle-tufts I've watched the glow
Of a blurred orange sunset flare and fade;
And I'm content. To-morrow we must go
To take some cursed Wood.... O world God made!

_July 3rd, 1916._

[The end]
Siegfried Sassoon's poem: At Carnoy

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