More Songs by the Fighting Men
Red clouds, and the low sun agleam
In cottage windows dim with age,
The summer sounds of wood and stream,
These were his faith, his heritage;
His life—a happy pilgrimage,
And death the dawning of a dream.
And on that day he went to die
His spirit soared on rainbow wings,
Gladly he went, with head held high,
And singing as a lover sings
To greet the dusky night, that brings
His hour of happiness more nigh.
Ah, surely when his life was sped
That spirit hastened to your side.
Would you but raise your weeping head
You'd hear him whisper in the tide,
Or on the winds of heaven ride
For ever with the mighty dead.
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