In lonely watches night by night 
Great visions burst upon my sight, 
For down the stretches of the sky 
The hosts of dead go marching by. 

Strange ghostly banners o?er them float,
Strange bugles sound an awful note, 
And all their faces and their eyes 
Are lit with starlight from the skies. 

The anguish and the pain have passed 
And peace hath come to them at last,
But in the stern looks linger still 
The iron purpose and the will. 

Dear Christ, who reign?st above the flood 
Of human tears and human blood, 
A weary road these men have trod,
O house them in the home of God!

In a Field near Ypres
April, 1915