Thrice blessed sleep, the balm of sorrow! Thrice blessed eyes Sealed up till on some doomsday morrow The sun arise! COMRADES O’ MINE (RONDEAU) Comrades o’ mine, that were to me More than my grief and gaiety, More than my laughter or my pain: Comrades, we shall not walk again The road whereon we went so free-- The old way of Humanity. But you are sleeping peacefully Till the last dawn, heroic slain, Comrades o’ mine. Till the last moon shall fade and flee You sleep. Oh sleep not dreamlessly, You whereof only dreams remain, Come you by dreams into my brain, Inspire my visions, and still be Comrades o’ mine! TO _R. E. K._ (IN MEMORIAM) Dear, rash, warm-hearted friend, So careless of the end, So worldly-foolish, so divinely-wise, Who, caring not one jot For place, gave all you’d got To help your lesser fellow-men to rise. Swift-footed, fleeter yet Of heart. Swift to forget The petty spite that life or men could show you; Your last long race is won, But beyond the sound of gun You laugh and help men onward--if I know you. Oh still you laugh, and walk, And sing and frankly talk (To angels) of the matters that amused you In this bitter-sweet of life, And we who keep its strife, Take comfort in the thought how God has used you. BALLAD OF ARMY PAY In general, if you want a man to do a dangerous job:-- Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul’s, or break into and rob The Bank of England, why, you find his wages must be higher Than if you merely wanted him to light the kitchen fire. But in the British Army, it’s just the other way, And the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. You put some men inside a trench, and call them infantrie, And make them face ten kinds of hell, and face it cheerfully; And live in holes like rats, with other rats, and lice, and toads, And in their leisure time, assist the R.E.’s with their loads. Then, when they’ve done it all, you give ’em each a bob a day! For the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. We won’t run down the A.S.C., nor yet the R.T.O. They ration and direct us on the way we’ve got to go. They’re very useful people, and it’s pretty plain to see We couldn’t do without ’em, nor yet the A.P.C. But comparing risks and wages,--I think they all will say That the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay. There are men who make munitions--and seventy bob a week; They never see a lousy trench nor hear a big shell shriek; And others _sing_ about the war at high-class music-halls Getting heaps and heaps of money and encores from the stalls. They “keep the home fires burning” and bright by night and day, While the maximum of danger means the minimum of pay.