GIFTS FROM THE DEAD
Ye who in Sorrow's tents abide,
Mourning your dead with hidden tears,
Bethink you what a wealth of pride
They've won you for the coming years.
Grievous the pain; but, in the day
When all the cost is counted o'er,
Would it be best that you should say:
"We lost no loved ones in the war"?
Who knows? But proud then shall ye stand