O Son of mine, when dusk shall find thee bending <br />Between a gravestone and a cradle's head--- <br />Between the love whose name is loss unending <br />And the young love whose thoughts are liker dread,--- <br />Thou too shalt groan at heart that all thy spending <br />Cannot repay the dead, the hungry dead.<br /><br />Sir Henry Newbolt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-generation-to-generation-2/
