A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896.
XXII. The street sounds to the soldiers tread
T
And out we troop to see:
A single redcoat turns his head,
He turns and looks at me.
We never crossed before;
Such leagues apart the world’s ends are,
We ’re like to meet no more;
We cannot stop to tell;
But dead or living, drunk or dry,
Soldier, I wish you well.