Your humble tomb beneath the Argonne skies.
No flowers shall fade upon your lowly mound,
So soon by storm and time effaced to be;
But where you died, His France's holy ground,
An altar and a pledge to Victory.
Hail to you, Poilu! In all the years to come,
You'll represent the Fighting Soul of France;
Verdun, the Meuse, the Champagne and the Somme,
Are clarion notes which thrill, inspire, entrance.
That rolling down the misty vales of Time