| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 135. The Fallen Subaltern |
| | | By Herbert Asquith |
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| THE STARSHELLS float above, the bayonets glisten; | |
| We bear our fallen friend without a sound; | |
| Below the waiting legions lie and listen | |
| To us, who march upon their burial-ground. | |
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| Wound in the flag of England, here we lay him; | 5 |
| 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? | |
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| As goes the Sun-god in his chariot glorious, | |
| When all his golden banners are unfurled, | 10 |
| So goes the soldier, fallen but victorious, | |
| And leaves behind a twilight in the world. | |
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| And those who come this way, in days hereafter, | |
| Will know that here a boy for England fell, | |
| Who looked at danger with the eyes of laughter, | 15 |
| And on the charge his days were ended well. | |
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| One last salute; the bayonets clash and glisten; | |
| 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.
1915 | 20 |
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