I have found a niche for a drifter 
In a peaceful little town. 
The streets are quiet and the lamps are low 
And I think I've settled down. 
There's a hush in the early evening 
And the skies are grey and still. 
The people soft and their words are kind 
And a man may dream his fill. 
Yet a man grows soft in dreaming 
And the winter air is chill 
And I miss the friends that I used to know 
And I miss the golden thrill 
Of gallant deeds in action 
Of hunger and color and death 
And the little jokes in the jungle grass 
Hissed out with labored breath. 
But my friends have gone from the beaches 
And the war gongs clash no more. 
The tribes have ceased their chanting 
And the blood's washed from the shore. 
I'll call an end to my drifting 
At least, this is something new, 
I'll forget the talk and the song we sang 
I'll stay and see it through. 

         TenEyck Van Deusen