George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917.
Herbert Asquith
The Fallen Subaltern
T
We bear our fallen friend without a sound;
Below the waiting legions lie and listen
To us, who march upon their burial-ground.
The guns will flash and thunder o’er the grave;
What other winding sheet should now array him,
What other music should salute the brave?
When all his golden banners are unfurled,
So goes the soldier, fallen but victorious,
And leaves behind a twilight in the world.
Will know that here a boy for England fell,
Who looked at danger with the eyes of laughter,
And on the charge his days were ended well.
With arms reversed we go without a sound:
One more has joined the men who lie and listen
To us, who march upon their burial-ground.