Sonnet 169
Come home, victorious wounded! — let the dead,
The out-of-it, the more victorious still,
Hold in the cold the hot-contested hill,
Hold by the sand the abandoned smooth beach-head; —
Maimed men, whose scars must be exhibited
To all the world, though much against your will —
And men whose bodies bear no marks of ill,
Being twisted only in the guts and head:
Come home! come home! — not to the home you long
To find, — and which your valour had achieved
Had been virtue been but right, and evil wrong! —
We have tried hard, and we have greatly grieved:
Come home and help us! — you are hurt but strong!
— And we — we are bewildered — and bereaved.