XVI) From a war-cemetery
The young and brave, the strong and sure,
The true, the upright and the pure,
The thief, the coward, the perjurer,
The cuckold, the adulterer,
The men that stood, the men that fled,
They all are here, and all are dead.
‘Twas not because he thought it well
That any of them fought and fell;
Far other would have been their choice,
If fate had given them a voice;
But mastered by the might of chance,
They flocked to perish here in France.
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