N
��S. Morgan-Powell
YPRES AND LANGEMARCK OT theirs to know the glory of acclaim, The loud hurrahs and the deep-throated cheers. Not theirs the knowledge of a victory won That changed the balance of a nation s fate. Theirs but to know the slow death s torturing hours, The long-drawn agony of searing fire With each laborious breath.
No battle, this,
Such as their hearts had hoped for, but an end Awful beyond the dream of human fiends. And yet they faltered not, nor failed, but to the last- Facing a terror never known before, They fought and died for Empire and for Home. Lo, all the records of the centuries Of Britain s Empire-story search in vain : You shall not find a greater, nobler deed Achieved by any men for Freedom s sake !
��i
��GODSPEED
WANT you when the skylark flies
And sings his morning hymn ;
I want you when the sunset lies
Athwart the river s brim.
I want you when the moonbeams fall
Across the misty glen,
And at the midnight hour ah, then
I want you most of all !
I want you morning, noon, and night, To gladden every hour. But I must work and you must fight To break the Tyrant s power. So every hour I work, I pray, And know tis not in vain. God guard you, Dear, and speed the Day That brings you Home again !
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