We knew that soon the lads must die,
And yet they battled death
Unmindful of his awful wings
And black, consuming breath,
Unmindful when he roared at them
Or whispered what he saith.
For shattered men will die in pain,
And shaken men will weep,
And there are things which blast the blood
And through the body creep,
And men will not lie down at night
Afeared that they will sleep.
Afeared they would too deeply sleep,
That battered hearts would burst;
And though each knew that he must die,
The dawn must beckon first,
And each must feel again the grip
Of loneliness and thirst.
For none would die alone, apart,
By twos and twelves they fell,
And if a man could walk he worked,
He loaded shot and shell,
For none would die alone, apart,
Within a narrow cell.
Within a narrow cell at last
All men someday must lie,
But while their blood was in the heart
And light within the eye,
They would not leave the stand they took
Beneath the open sky.
They would not leave us, watching them,
Examples of defeat,
That when we come to look on death,
And though our ranks deplete,
Somehow we must think back to them,
The way they met it, meet!
Alas, Love, I would thou couldst as well
defende thy selfe as thou canst offende others
—SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
When he and I had met I knew
The way he smiled at me
That we’d become the best of pals
Two guys could ever be.
For night and day he filled my thoughts,
I talked of only him,
But there were eyes which watched us both,
Suspicious, cold, and dim.