O living pictures of the dead, <br />O songs without a sound, <br />O fellowship whose phantom tread <br />Hallows a phantom ground -- <br />How in a gleam have these revealed <br />The faith we had not found. <br /> <br />We have sought God in a cloudy Heaven, <br />We have passed by God on earth: <br />His seven sins and his sorrows seven, <br />His wayworn mood and mirth, <br />Like a ragged cloak have hid from us <br />The secret of his birth. <br /> <br />Brother of men, when now I see <br />The lads go forth in line, <br />Thou knowest my heart is hungry in me <br />As for thy bread and wine; <br />Thou knowest my heart is bowed in me <br />To take their death for mine.<br /><br />Sir Henry Newbolt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-war-films/
