Whisper of death, but shout of glory!
Gutted and ripped the stricken earth
Where the bones of the restless dead are showing,
But the great earth breathes of life and birth
And ruin shrinks from the blossoms blowing.
The old life fails, but the new life comes
Over the ruins scarred and hoary,
Though the thunder of guns and the roll of drums
But make for death while they shout of glory.