Sacramentum Supremum

Ye that with me have fought and failed and fought

To the last desperate trench of battle's crest,

Not yet to sleep, not yet; our work is nought;

On that last trench the fate of all may rest,

Draw near, my friends; and let your thoughts be high;

Great hearts are glad when it is time to give;

Life is no life to him that dares not die,

And death no death to him that dares to live.

Draw near together; none be last or first;

We are no longer names, but one desire;

With the same burning of the soul we thirst,

And the same wine to-night shall quench our fire.

Drink! to our fathers who begot us men,

To the dead voices that are never dumb;

Then to the land of all our loves, and then

To the long parting, and the age to come.