"We meet 'neath the sounding rafter,
And the walls around are bare.
As they shout back our peals of laughter,
It seems that the dead are there.
Then stand to your glasses steady,
We drink in our comrades' eyes.
One cup to the dead already,
Hurrah for the next man that dies."
World War I song, "Stand to Your Glasses."
No comments:
Post a Comment