Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/175

Rh O lovely youth, slaughtered at manhood's dawn,

In virgin purity thou liest dead,

And slaughtered were thy sons unborn,

With thee unwed.

Sleep on, pure youth, sleep at Earth's soothing breast,

No king's sarcophagus was e'er so fine

As that poor shallow soldier's grave of thine,

Where all ungarlanded thou tak'st thy rest.