I’ve been in a trench for fifteen days,
I’m choked for the want of air;
It’s harvest time where my mother stays,
And I’m wishing that I was there.
I’ve ceased to count in the scheme of things,
My courage has waned and set;
It’s trysting-time where the mavis sings
And I’m wishing I could forget.
With straightened shoulders and hearts that sang
“For Freedom and Liberty!”
That was the battle-cry that sang
From the men-that-we-used-to-be.
We’ve learnt the law of shot and shell,
We’ve learnt the law of steel;
But the Law of the Trench is a cultured Hell
For it stifles the power to feel.
Death we have ventured many times
Nor flinched at the sacrifice,
But if this be the debt of our youthful crimes –
Lord God we have paid the price!
We’re growing inanimate: Bit by bit
We’re getting inert – decayed;
The score of our sins was boldly writ
But Mother of God – we’ve paid!
And this is our Fate: When the Gods are kind
Our existence shall simply cease –
A sniper’s bullet – a trench that’s mined! –
God-speed, and a quick release!