All the world over, nursing their scars, <br />Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars-- <br />Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim <br />Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn. <br /> <br />Dust of the battle o'erwhelmed them and hid. <br />Fame never found them for aught that they did. <br />Wounded and spent to the lazar they drew, <br />Lining the road where the Legions roll through. <br /> <br />Sons of the Laurel who press to your meed, <br />(Worthy God's pity most--you who succeed!) <br />Ere you go triumphing, crowned, to the stars, <br />Pity poor fighting-men, broke in the wars!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-fighting-men/
