THE OLD SOLDIERS SING:

But we took them from Mons to the banks of the Marne, And helped them back on their red return; We can swim the Rhine if the bridges burn, And Mike O'Leary's the lad!

Not for this did our fathers fall; That truth, and pity, and love, and all Should break in dust at a trumpet call, Yea! all things clean and old. Not to this had we sacrificed: To sit at the last where the slayers diced, With blood-hot hands for the robes of Christ, And snatch at the Devil's gold.