_"Mark time in front! Rear fours cover! Company--halt!_
_Order arms! Stand at--ease! Stand easy."_
A sudden hush:
And then the talk began with a mighty rush--
"You weren't ever in step--The sergeant.--It wasn't my fault--
Well, the Lord be praised at least for a ten minutes' halt."
We sat on a gate and watched them easing and shifting;
Out of the distance a faint, keen breath came drifting,
From the sea behind the hills, and the hedges were salt.
Where do you halt now? Under what hedge do you lie?
Where the tall poplars are fringing the white French roads?
And smoke I have not seen discolours the foreign sky?
Is the company resting there as we rested together
Stamping its feet and readjusting its loads
And looking with wary eyes at the drooping weather?