Wilfrid J. Halliday
"An unknown British soldier"—that
Was all that they could say.
'Twas not for them to wet the eye,
Why lives a soldier but to die?
And so they went their way.
But I may pause and probe his heart
Before the shadow fell,
And think that he had still a prayer
For those frail souls who soon would share
The moment black as Hell.
······
The flowers had bloomed when last I looked,
The grass was freshly mown:
A shapely cross so chastely white
Shone in the dazzling noonday light,
Yet still the same "Unknown."
Unknown! Ah, no! thy name still lives,
For One had seen thee fall
And marked the sacrifice thus made,
The debt of love so nobly paid,
Faithful to Freedom's call.
France, August, 1917.
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