| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917. |
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| 88. They Went Forth to Battle, but They Always Fell |
| | | By Shaemas O Sheel |
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| THEY went forth to battle, but they always fell; | |
| Their eyes were fixed above the sullen shields; | |
| Nobly they fought and bravely, but not well, | |
| And sank heart-wounded by a subtle spell. | |
| They knew not fear that to the foeman yields, | 5 |
| They were not weak, as one who vainly wields | |
| A futile weapon; yet the sad scrolls tell | |
| How on the hard-fought field they always fell. | |
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| It was a secret music that they heard, | |
| A sad sweet plea for pity and for peace; | 10 |
| And that which pierced the heart was but a word, | |
| Though the white breast was red-lipped where the sword | |
| Pressed a fierce cruel kiss, to put surcease | |
| On its hot thirst, but drank a hot increase. | |
| Ah, they by some strange troubling doubt were stirred, | 15 |
| And died for hearing what no foeman heard. | |
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| They went forth to battle but they always fell; | |
| Their might was not the might of lifted spears; | |
| Over the battle-clamor came a spell | |
| Of troubling music, and they fought not well. | 20 |
| Their wreaths are willows and their tribute, tears; | |
| Their names are old sad stories in men’s cars; | |
| Yet they will scatter the red hordes of Hell, | |
| Who went to battle forth and always fell. | |
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