THOSE FAR OFF GRAVES
DEAD! our gallant sons who went to fight
Along that far-flung battle line
Where lights of Glory ever shine
Like beckoning signals through the night,
And Valor counts the toll.
Along that far-flung battle line
Where lights of Glory ever shine
Like beckoning signals through the night,
And Valor counts the toll.
Asleep forever 'neath the skies
Of foreign lands, and yet we feel—
Though long sea leagues between us reel—
The self-same stars above us rise,
Watching all silently.
Of foreign lands, and yet we feel—
Though long sea leagues between us reel—
The self-same stars above us rise,
Watching all silently.
It matters not if o'er those graves
The golden gorse of Scotland grows
Or France her lilied symbol shows,
For Victory's unseen banner waves
Its answer to the stars.
The golden gorse of Scotland grows
Or France her lilied symbol shows,
For Victory's unseen banner waves
Its answer to the stars.
And in our souls is this clear creed:
That God knows where our dead are laid!
And we wait on, all unafraid,
For in His love He has decreed
That Fame will not forget.
That God knows where our dead are laid!
And we wait on, all unafraid,
For in His love He has decreed
That Fame will not forget.
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