Explore "Nantucketer in France" by Edwina Stanton Babcock on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
They would take the hill next day -- the order, he knew, / And the kind of hell the "taking" would be, he had seen; / So he spent the night awake and the hours flew, / As he pondered on the sort of man he had been, / And wondered what dying and doing it bravely would mean. / "_The Eighty-second's coming along tonight! _" / He remembered then. There were men in that regiment knew / His Island home. Men that were going to fight / For the moors he loved and the pines where arbutus grew. / Well -- he thought he would like to pass them a word or two.
He thought he would like to see them, to talk of the hill / By Polpis Harbor, the grey little farm roofs slant; / Of the way the sunset flared through the fans of the Mill, / And the rolling moorland hiding the plover and brant, / And the scallopers sailing their boats through Autumnal chill.