The Great War

from Poems of the Great War, an electronic edition


With steady, silent tread

Bearing aloft their dead --

One at the foot, one at the head

The stretcher-bearers go;

Out of the dark they come

Stumbling and staggering, some

Bearing, maybe, a chum,

Pair after pair they go.

Vague, silhouetted ghosts,

Remnants of martyr'd hosts;

Think on the blatant toasts

Raised to "King Glory"!

Tread lightly, that's the way,

Wake not the dead, lest they

Have other words to say

Of the same story!