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?
A stab, a curse, some quick play of the butt,
Two skulls cracked crosswise, but the colours saved?
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?
I saw you not.? The other turned and showed
A gapping, red-lipped wound upon his breast.
`Ah,? said he sadly, `I was in the smoke!?
Threw up his arms, shivered, and fell and died.