Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/120

 94 H. REX F RES TON

If his dust is one day lying, in an unfamiliar land,

(England, he went for you) Oh, England, sometimes think of him, of thousands,

only one. In the dawning, or the noonday, or the setting of the sun,

(As once he thought of you). For to him and many like him, there seemed no other way

(England, he asked not why) The giving up of all things, for ever and for aye,

(England, he asked not why) And so he goes unshrinking, from those dearest paths

of home. For he knows, great-hearted England, let whatever fate may come

You will never let him die !

— H. Rex Freston. (Killed in action in France, Jan. 24, 1916.)

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