Page:Flower of youth, poems in war time, Tynan, 1915.djvu/19

Rh Somewhere to-night—no tears be shed!—

With shaking hands they turn the sheet

To find his name among the dead,

Flower of the Army and the Fleet.

They tell, with proud and stricken face,

Of his white boyhood far away—

Who talked of trouble or disgrace?

"Our splendid son is dead!" they say.