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THE GERMAN AND THE GAEL

WHEN they go out to battle
They march with pomp and show,
And all the fruits of victory
Before them as they go.
Because they dream the fight is theirs,
Therefore they will not flee,
But we go darkly out to meet
The fate we cannot see.

Their officers and generals
Have nourished them with lies,
And waved the torch of victory
Before their blinded eyes.
But we go grimly forward,
Believing—come what may,
We shall not tread the grass again
Nor see another day.

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