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THE NIGHT BEFORE AND THE NIGHT AFTER THE CHARGE
On sword and gun the shadows reel and riot, A lone breeze whispers at the dug-out door, The trench is silent and the night is quiet, And boys in khaki slumber on the floor. A sentinel on guard, my watch I keep And guard the dug-out where my comrades sleep.
The moon looks down upon a ghost-like figure,
Delving a furrow in the cold, damp sod. The grave is ready and the lonely digger Leaves the departed to their rest and God. I shape a little cross and plant it deep To mark the dug-out where my comrades sleep.
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