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St. George's Day

Ypres, 1915.

To fill the gap, to bear the bruntWith bayonet and with spade,Four hundred to a four-mile frontUnbacked and undismayed—What men are these, or what great race,From what old shire or town,That run with such goodwill to faceDeath on a Flemish down?
Let be! they bind a broken line:As men die, so die they.Land of the free! their life was thine,It is St. George's Day.
Yet say whose ardour bids them standAt bay by yonder bank,Where a boy's voice and boy's handClose up the quivering rank.

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