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A Treasury of War Poetry

by George Herbert Clarke

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To Our Fallen

Ye sleepers, who will sing you?
  We can but give our tears—
Ye dead men, who shall bring you
  Fame in the coming years?
Brave souls … but who remembers
The flame that fired your embers?…
Deep, deep the sleep that holds you
  Who one time had no peers.

Yet maybe Fame’s but seeming
  And praise you’d set aside,
Content to go on dreaming,
  Yea, happy to have died
If of all things you prayed for—
All things your valour paid for—
One prayer is not forgotten,
  One purchase not denied.

But God grants your dear England
  A strength that shall not cease
Till she have won for all the Earth
  From ruthless men release,
And made supreme upon her
Mercy and Truth and Honour—
Is this the thing you died for?
  Oh, Brothers, sleep in peace!

Robert Ernest Vernède

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