“Standing to.”
While the sleep-drunk world behind lies still abed,
And the dawn breath chills the smoking mists before,
Down the lines between in commune of the Dead,
There are eyes, that world of slumber watching o’er;
There are trenches darkly sheening readied steel,
There are orbs aglint, the darkness peering through;
And the shades of Night, the shades of Death scarce veil,