THE OLD SOLDIERS SING:

But we took them from Mons to the banks of the Marne,

And helped them back on their red return;

We can swim the Rhine if the bridges burn,

And Mike O'Leary' s the lad!

Not for this did our fathers fall;

That truth, and pity, and love, and all

Should break in dust at a trumpet call,

Yea! all things clean and old.

Not to this had we sacrificed:

To sit at the last where the slayers diced,

With blood-hot hands for the robes of Christ,

And snatch at the Devil's gold.