Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/190

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Triumph! Yes, when out of the dust in the splendour of their release

The spirits of those who fell go forth and they hallow our hearts to peace,

And, brothers in pain, with world-wide voice, we clamour that War shall cease.

Glory! Ay, when from blackest loss shall be born most radiant gain;

When over the gory fields shall rise a star that never shall wane:

Then, and then only, our Dead shall know that they have not fall'n in vain.

When our children's children shall talk of War as a madness that may not be;

When we thank our God for our grief to-day, and blazon from sea to sea

In the name of the Dead the banner of Peace. . . that will be Victory. Robert W. Service