Your faces haunt me from the printed pages,

The roll call of our valiant English dead;

What woman's hands, I wonder, clung in parting?

What woman's heart breaks now the shot is sped?

We speak of Glory and the Cause you died for,

We lay our homage on your bloodstained grave,

Will Glory help to ease the women's anguish

Or solace them for these dear dead they gave?

Yea, surely. For your spirits go before them,

You, who made Death a crown about your lives!

And in the splendour of your souls that conquered

We learn this lesson. Blessed is he who strives,

For Love and Faith, for Truth and priceless Honour,

These cannot pass away with mortal breath,

God guards them safe, and in His mighty keeping

Are also those who nobly looked on Death!