Young martyrs of the war,

Who with your bright eyes star

The shadows grey;

Who steal at dawn and gloam

In each beloved room

So pale, so gay.

Boys who will not grow old,

Peach cheek and hair of gold,

Smile and are flown;

You will come back again,

In the darkness and the rain,

In the dusk, in the dawn.

Remember, oh, dear Two,

Two who came after you

Who love, as you loved,

The grey house and the woods,

All the sweet solitudes

You loved, approved.

Dear martyrs of the war,

Remember, where you are,

Boys who have still

To do, to bear, to attain

To your glory and your gain --

By what steep hill?