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Siegfried Sassoon - The Dark House
Work rating: Low

Dusk in the rain-soaked garden,   
And dark the house within.   
A door creaked: someone was early   
To watch the dawn begin.   
  But he stole away like a thief 
  In the chilly, star-bright air:   
  Though the house was shuttered for slumber,   
  He had left one wakeful there.   
   
Nothing moved in the garden.   
Never a bird would sing,
Nor shake and scatter the dew from the boughs   
With shy and startled wing.   
  But when that lover had passed the gate   
  A quavering thrush began…  
  ‘Come back; come back!’ he shrilled to the heart 
  Of the passion-plighted man.
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