All the hills and vales along <br />Earth is bursting into song, <br />And the singers are the chaps <br />Who are going to die perhaps. <br />O sing, marching men, <br />Till the valleys ring again. <br />Give your gladness to earth's keeping, <br />So be glad, when you are sleeping. <br /> <br />Cast away regret and rue, <br />Think what you are marching to. <br />Little live, great pass. <br />Jesus Christ and Barabbas <br />Were found the same day. <br />This died, that went his way. <br />So sing with joyful breath, <br />For why, you are going to death. <br />Teeming earth will surely store <br />All the gladness that you pour. <br /> <br />Earth that never doubts nor fears, <br />Earth that knows of death, not tears, <br />Earth that bore with joyful ease <br />Hemlock for Socrates, <br />Earth that blossomed and was glad <br />'Neath the cross that Christ had, <br />Shall rejoice and blossom too <br />When the bullet reaches you. <br />Wherefore, men marching <br />On the road to death, sing! <br />Pour your gladness on earth's head, <br />So be merry, so be dead. <br /> <br />From the hills and valleys earth <br />Shouts back the sound of mirth, <br />Tramp of feet and lilt of sing <br />Ringing all the road along. <br />All the music of their going, <br />Ringing swinging glad song-throwing, <br />Earth will echo still, when foot <br />Lies numb and voice mute. <br />On, marching men, on <br />To the gates of death with song. <br />Sow your gladness for earth's reaping, <br />So you may be glad, though sleeping. <br />Strew your gladness on earth's bed, <br />So be merry, so be dead.<br /><br />Charles Hamilton Sorley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-the-hills-and-vales-along/
