I Stood With The Dead

I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:

When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.

And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:

'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.

On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace

I stared for a while through the thin cold rain…

'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,

'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'

I stood with the Dead… They were dead; they were dead;

My heart and my head beat a march of dismay:

And gusts of the wind came dulled by the guns.

'Fall in!' I shouted; 'Fall in for your pay!'