Upon what Bible will you swear? Before whose altar lift your hand When kettle-drum and trumpet-blare Attest you at the witness-stand?

There was another lad I knew, Blue-eyed and trustful and as mild, A life-enthusiast like you, Who scarcely had outgrown the child.

There was a virus in the air That put the toxin in his blood, Bugles were blowing everywhere Breathing romance on sleet and mud.

He wrote his lesson on a slate, Composed of foreign names to spell— These to defend and those to hate, And at the barracks learned it well.

They pinned a medal on his breast Behind the lines one afternoon: He had from a machine-gun nest Annihilated a platoon.

And there were further honours paid One evening when his name was read, For after two crossed slabs were laid, The LAST POST sounded overhead.