THE pale sun woke in the eastern sky

And a veil of mist was drawn

Over the faces ot death and tame

When you went up in the dawn.

With never a thought of fame or death,

Only the work to do,

When you went over the top, my friends,

And I not there with you.

The veil is rent with a rifle-flash

And shows me plain to see

Battle and bodies of men that lived

And fought along with me.

Oh God! it would not have been so hard

If I'd been in it too,

But you are lying stiff, my friends,

And I not there with you.

So here I sit in a pleasant room

By a comfortable fire,

With every thing that a man could want,

But not the heart's desire.

So I sit thinking and dreaming still,

A dream that won't come true,

Of you in the German trench, my friends,

And I not there with you.