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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=518906" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At Carnoy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=518906" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Down in the hollow there’s the whole Brigade <br>Camped in four groups: through twilight falling slow <br>I hear a sound of mouth-organs, ill-played, <br>And murmur of voices, gruff, confused, and low. <br>Crouched among thistle-tufts I’ve watched the glow<br>Of a blurred orange sunset flare and fade; <br>And I’m content. To-morrow we must go <br>To take some cursèd Wood ... O world God made! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=518906" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>July 3rd, 1916.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Siegfried+Sassoon">Siegfried Sassoon</a></strong></div>

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