Beyond the soaring thrill that lifts the heart

To martial music and to marching feet,

Beyond the thin call of the fife -- apart

From brave emotion, and the sudden heat

Of young enthusiasm, and the cheers

Of crowds which weep and rally at a word --

Beyond the Fire and the Wind and Tears

The still small voice of Sacrifice is heard!

The cripple in his chair who does his bit --

The bent old woman in her garden-plot --

By such small flames the holy Lamp is lit --

And who can say the Country needs them not?

Not for us all the right to rise and go

To unknown Terror over haunted seas --

Yet all shall reap as We-At-Home shall sow --

And thus we serve -- unto the least of these!