| Lest We Forget |
At some disputed barricade, on some scarred slope of a battered hill,
or at midnight in some flaming town some of our comrades kept a
rendezvous with Destiny. When these scenes of combat grow dim through the
haze of time, the great personal sacrifices made by them will live long in
the hearts of their comrades. To keep the sacrifices from being vain, we
who remain for them --
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Say not, the straggle naught availeth,
The labor and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.
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If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e' en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
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For while the fired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
For back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
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And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
Arthur Hough Clough |
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