War, the Liberator, and Other Pieces/The German and the Gael

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.

Not for the hope of glory,
Nor for desire of loot,
Not for the pride of conquest,
Nor dream of wild pursuit;
But because ancient battles
Stir in our memory,
Hopeless as went our fathers
And stern as they, go we.

Maybe that we shall drive them,
Maybe we fight in vain,
We care not now our fathers
Are born in us again.
When the old voices called us
We heard them and obeyed,
Whether we die or conquer
We have not been afraid.