Page:More songs by the fighting men, soldier poets, second series, 1917.djvu/147

Walter Lightowler Wilkinson And she?—I sense her grief, I feel her tears!

"This, then, the garnered harvest of my years!"

And he? . . . "For Country, dear, a man must die!"

Comrade unknown, good rest to you!—Good-bye!

It's reeded: he is buried! Comrade, sleep!

A wooden cross at your brave head will stand.

A cross of wood? A Calvary!—The Land

For whose sake you laid down sweet life, will keep

Watch, lad, and ward that none may bring to shame.

That Name for which you died! . . . "What's in a name"?—

England shall answer! You will hear Her cry:

"Well done, my own! my son—good rest: Good-bye!"

B.E.F.,, 4.3.17.

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