One evening I asked whether he [Rivers] thought I was suffering from shell-shock. ‘Certainly not,’ he replied. 'What have I got then?’ 'Well, you app… - Siegfried Sassoon

Deep in my morning time he made his mark
And still he comes uncalled to be my guide
In devastated regions
When the brain has lost its bearings in the dark
And broken in it’s body’s pride
In the long campaign to which it had sworn allegiance.

The visionless officialized fatuity
That once kept Europe safe for Perpetuity.

Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words;
And let me learn your secret from the sky,
Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birds
In lone remote migration beating by.
December stillness, crossed by twilight roads,
Teach me to travel far and bear my loads.