Our bugles sang truce; for the night-cloud had lowered,
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track:
'Twas autumn; and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed my back.
I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
And knew the sweet strains that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
From my home and my weeping friends never to part:
My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er,
And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart.
"Stay, stay with us, rest, thou art weary and worn:"
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
The Soldier's Dream
Thomas Campbell
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Poem topics: autumn, away, cloud, heart, life, never, sky, sleep, soldier, sorrow, sunshine, war, wife, voice, battle, field, young, march, broken, mountain, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Write your comment about The Soldier's Dream poem by Thomas Campbell
Andy Panford: Our bugles sang truce. What does this mean
Ihsanuddin: What a lasting-forever poetry.the line"The weary to sleep,the wounded to die;is one of the golden line of the English poetry has seen so far.will the day be dawn where there be no wars?
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