That night when joy began
Our narrowest veins to flush,
We waited for the flash
Of morning's levelled gun,

But morning let us pass,
And, day by day, relief
Outgrows his nervous laugh,
Grows credulous of peace,

As mile by mile is seen
No trespasser's reproach,
And love's best glasses reach
No fields but are his own.

-- W. H. Auden