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The Dug-Out
Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled,

And one arm bent across your sullen cold,

Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,

Deep-shadowed from the candle's guttering gold;

And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;

Drowsy, you marble and sigh and turn your head...

You are to young to fall asleep for ever;

And when you sleep you remind me of the dead.