The Great War

from Poems of the Great War, an electronic edition


If Death had questioned thee,

"Soldier, where would'st thou take,

The immitigable blow?"

Thou hadst answered, "Let it be

Where the battalions shake

And break the entrench├ęd foe."

Yet wert thou nobly starred

And destined. Thou dost die

On the grim English sea;

Thou goest to the old tarred

Great Captains, and shalt lie

Pillowed with them eternally.

And they shall stir from their rest

Each in his lordly shroud,

And say, "'Fore God, we have room,

So are the deeps made proud,

Behold the glory on his breast,

Kitchener of Khartoum!"