The fight was over, and the battle won
A soldier, who beneath his chieftain’s eye
Had done a might deed and done it well,
And done it as the world will have it done—
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Proud of his wounds, proud of the promised cross,
Turned to his rear-rank man, who on his gun
Leant heavily apart. ‘Ho, friend! ’ he called,
‘You did not fight then: were you left behind?
a very fine poem. tony
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Proud of his wounds, proud of the promised cross, Turned to his rear-rank man, who on his gun Leant heavily apart. ‘Ho, friend! ’ he called, ‘You did not fight then: were you left behind? a very fine poem. tony