The angels walk with men in the red ruin and rain, <br />White and gold, as of old, without spot or stain. <br />Our warriors fought and died, the white lords by their side. <br />The angels walk with men. <br /> <br />God doth not forget in the battle, the retreat; <br />The heart of Love's above the dying and the slain. <br />There's a ladder to the skies and, armed from Paradise, <br />The angels walk with men. <br /> <br />Foot-soldiers, cavaliers, the flame on their spears, <br />They sweep fast in haste o'er the bloody plain. <br />What ill shall betide us with the winged knights beside us? <br />The angels walk with men. <br /> <br />Golden-mailed, lance in arm, they ride on the storm -- <br />Michael and a poor soldier are comrades twain! <br />Oh, in the noise of battle, the red roar and the rattle, <br />The angels walk with men!<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-comrades/
