UNRECORDED and unsung.
Lay his body in the clay;
Buckler broken, sword unslung.
Done the friendly light of day.
Done the song of birds in May,
Praising life with flame-touched tongue.
Lay his body in the clay;
Sing no song of joy or sorrow;
Fled the dream of yesterday.
Dead the dawning of to-morrow.
He no more will give or borrow
'Mid the dwellers of the day.
Those who knew him may forget him.
Those who never knew remember;
Woman, thou who didst beget him.
And with tenderness beset him.
See him lie amid the clay.
O let him who will, remember!