In lonely watches night by night <br />Great visions burst upon my sight, <br />For down the stretches of the sky <br />The hosts of dead go marching by. <br /> <br />Strange ghostly banners o’er them float, <br />Strange bugles sound an awful note, <br />And all their faces and their eyes <br />Are lit with starlight from the skies. <br /> <br />The anguish and the pain have passed <br />And peace hath come to them at last, <br />But in the stern looks linger still <br />The iron purpose and the will. <br /> <br />Dear Christ, who reign’st above the flood <br />Of human tears and human blood, <br />A weary road these men have trod, <br />O house them in the home of God! <br /> <br />In a Field near Ypres <br />April, 1915<br /><br />Frederick George Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/requiescant/
