Page:For remembrance, soldier poets who have fallen in the war, Adcock, 1920.djvu/207

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But the dead men's hands were beckoning

And I knew that I must go.

The dead men's eyes were watching, lass,

Their lips were asking too:

We faced it out and paid the price—

Are we betrayed by you?...

But you 'll forgive me yet, my dear,

Because of what you know,

I can look my dead friends in the face

As I couldn't two months ago.