Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/103

Rh The call of English freemen fled his fears

And led him (their true son) into the strife.

There in the van he fought thro' many a dawn,

Stood by the forlorn hope, knew victory;

Proud, scorning Death, fought with a purpose drawn

Sword-edged, defiant, grand, for Liberty.

He fell; but yielded not his English soul—

That lives out there beneath the battle's roll.

A Soldiers' Cemetery

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