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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508799" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The March Of The Dead</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cruel war was over -- oh, the triumph was so sweet!<br> We watched the troops returning, through our tears;<br>There was triumph, triumph, triumph down the scarlet glittering street,<br> And you scarce could hear the music for the cheers.<br>And you scarce could see the house-tops for the flags that flew between;<br> The bells were pealing madly to the sky;<br>And everyone was shouting for the Soldiers of the Queen,<br> And the glory of an age was passing by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then there came a shadow, swift and sudden, dark and drear;<br> The bells were silent, not an echo stirred.<br>The flags were drooping sullenly, the men forgot to cheer;<br> We waited, and we never spoke a word.<br>The sky grew darker, darker, till from out the gloomy rack<br> There came a voice that checked the heart with dread:<br>&quot;Tear down, tear down your bunting now, and hang up sable black;<br> They are coming -- it's the Army of the Dead.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They were coming, they were coming, gaunt and ghastly, sad and slow;<br> They were coming, all the crimson wrecks of pride;<br>With faces seared, and cheeks red smeared, and haunting eyes of woe,<br> And clotted holes the khaki couldn't hide.<br>Oh, the clammy brow of anguish! the livid, foam-flecked lips!<br> The reeling ranks of ruin swept along!<br>The limb that trailed, the hand that failed, the bloody finger tips!<br> And oh, the dreary rhythm of their song!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;They left us on the veldt-side, but we felt we couldn't stop<br> On this, our England's crowning festal day;<br>We're the men of Magersfontein, we're the men of Spion Kop,<br> Colenso -- we're the men who had to pay.<br>We're the men who paid the blood-price. Shall the grave be all our gain?<br> You owe us. Long and heavy is the score.<br>Then cheer us for our glory now, and cheer us for our pain,<br> And cheer us as ye never cheered before.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The folks were white and stricken, and each tongue seemed weighted with lead;<br> Each heart was clutched in hollow hand of ice;<br>And every eye was staring at the horror of the dead,<br> The pity of the men who paid the price.<br>They were come, were come to mock us, in the first flush of our peace;<br> Through writhing lips their teeth were all agleam;<br>They were coming in their thousands -- oh, would they never cease!<br> I closed my eyes, and then -- it was a dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was triumph, triumph, triumph down the scarlet gleaming street;<br> The town was mad; a man was like a boy.<br>A thousand flags were flaming where the sky and city meet;<br> A thousand bells were thundering the joy.<br>There was music, mirth and sunshine; but some eyes shone with regret;<br> And while we stun with cheers our homing braves,<br>O God, in Thy great mercy, let us nevermore forget<br> The graves they left behind, the bitter graves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508799" data-title="The March Of The Dead de Robert William Service" data-description="The cruel war was over -- oh, the triumph was so sweet!
 We watched the troops returning, through our tears;
There was triumph, triumph, triumph down the scarlet glittering street,
 And you scarce could hear the music for the cheers.
And you scarc..."></div>
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