Two Long, Full Years Have Passed Since I Have Smelt Sweet London In This Happy Month Of May! Last Year Relentless War Bore Me Away To Imbros Isle, Where Six Sad Months I Dwelt Beneath A Burning Sun - Nor Ever Felt One Breath Of Gentle Spring Blow O'Er The Bay Between Whose Sun-Dried Hills So Long I Lay A Restless Captive. Now Has Fortune Dealt More Kindly With Me: Once Again I Know The Drowsy Languor Of The Afternoons: The Soft White Clouds: The May-Tree'S Whiter Snow: The Star-Bound Evenings, And The Ivory Moons. My Heart, Dear God! Leaps Up Till It Is Pain With Thanks To Thee That I Am Here Again. London.