Life For The Majority Of The Population.

You Smug-faced Crowds With Kindling Eye Who Cheer When Soldier Lads March By, Sneak Home And Pray You'll Never Know The Hell Where Youth And Laughter Go.

Man, It Seemed, Had Been Created To Jab The Life Out Of Germans.

O German Mother Dreaming By The Fire, While You Are Knitting Socks To Send Your Son His Face Is Trodden Deeper In The Mud.

October's Bellowing Anger Breakes And Cleavesthe Bronzed Battalions Of The Stricken Woodin Whose Lament I Hear A Voice That Grievesfor Battle's Fruitless Harvest, And The Feudof Outrage Men. Their Lives Are Like The Leavesscattered In Flocks Of Ruin, Tossed And Blownalong The Westering Furnace Flaring Red.o Martyred Youth And Manhood Overthrown,the Burden Of Your Wrongs Is On My Head.

His Wet White Face And Miserable Eyesbrought Nurses To Him More Than Groans And Sighs:but Hoarse And Low And Rapid Rose And Fellhis Troubled Voice: He Did The Business Well.(first Verse Of Died Of Wounds)