The Complaints IV

I was a soldier once. How fear was then Mixed with bright honour and delightful pride ! How different we were from other men, Who lived in houses and in houses died ! How huge the morning was, before the sun Sullenly found us marching in the mist ! And sleep was dark and deep when work was done And food awoke in us a greedy zest. But all that's over. I no more shall see, Quick to the word and ready to my hand, The smooth and easy moving company Marching in column on the heathery land. There's no pride now and fear's the fear that's bred Of money and suchlike maggots in the head.