FROM MY TRENCH
Reading edition
A clear, cold night, and in the southern air Those far-off thunderings so often there;[12] A Turkish moon is shining fitfully— My thoughts are ’neath another moon where we Paced slowly through the tree stems—you and I. And, looking back at yon farewell, I sigh And wonder whether then I cared as much As now I do when far beyond your touch. Cpl. Comus, 2nd Bat., A.I.F.