Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/74

Rh 'Neath foreign soil the soldier heroes lie

In lonely graves. No record raised above

To tell their names or deeds; to dignify

War's resting-place, save where with hands of love

Some comrade placed a cross to testify

His dead friends' worth; how manfully they strove.

Glory is theirs; the People's narrative

Of fame will tell their deeds of gallantry,

And for all time their memories will live

Shrined in our hearts. Now by our King's decree

As lasting honour, lo! their comrades give

The cross "FOR VALOUR" to the chosen Three.

The Attack

HE cold grey light of dawn yet hardly shows

The piles of tattered sandbags which surround

Our narrow trench, where we beneath the ground

Wait with the longing every soldier knows

To reap the harvest which the gunner sows

Amongst the Huns. Ah! sweet the whistling sound

Of shells o'erhead; next silence most profound;

Then the wild rush, the quick exchange of blows, 70