Malcolm Cowley

Malcolm Cowley Quotes



    Regiments at a time pass through our village
    And, filthy with the caked mud of the front
    They lie along the roadside, or else hunt
    Their billets in damp cellars, or in stables
    And there, forgetting their abandoned tillage;
    Their mining, or their clerking, or their law,
    They sleep like beasts together on the straw.

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