They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
Laurence Binyon
I love this 'Ode to Remembrance' and today will be thinking especially of all the young men whose graves we saw in Belgium over the Summer, not just soldiers and airmen but all the partisans of the maquis.
I can imagine that it was an emotional visit. We have been to the Royal Memorial Arboretum in Alrewas and it is the most moving place I have ever been.
ReplyDeleteOh that is such a beautiful place, I'm glad you had the chance to visit.
ReplyDelete