Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - III - The Recruit

Leave your home behind, lad,     And reach your friends your hand,     And go, and luck go with you     While Ludlow tower shall stand.     Oh, come you home of Sunday     When Ludlow streets are still     And Ludlow bells are calling     To farm and lane and mill,     Or come you home of Monday     When Ludlow market hums     And Ludlow chimes are playing     "The conquering hero comes,"     Come you home a hero,     Or come not home at all,     The lads you leave will mind you     Till Ludlow tower shall fall.     And you will list the bugle     That blows in lands of morn,     And make the foes of England     Be sorry you were born.     And you till trump of doomsday     On lands of morn may lie,     And make the hearts of comrades     Be heavy where you die.     Leave your home behind you,     Your friends by field and town     Oh, town and field will mind you     Till Ludlow tower is down.