DOWNHILL I came, hungry, and yet not starved,
Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof
Against the north wind; tired, yet so that rest
Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof
Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest
Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I
All of the night was quite barred out except
An owl's cry, a most melancholy cry
Shaken out long and clear upon the hill
No merry note, nor cause of merriment
But one telling me plain what I escaped
And others could not, that night, as in I went
And salted was my food, and my repose
Salted and sobered too, by the bird's voice
Speaking for all who lay under the stars
Soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice