Softly, O softly now, you falling snow,
Cover the ravished, the unyielding breast,
You that had earlier brought the monster low,
Irresolute and shrinking with the rest.
Hide her away, we dare not look upon her,
Who bore the Christian banner for her own,
And held that stale anachronism, Honour,
Sacred, and strove to keep it so, alone.
Fall softly, then upon her valiant brood,
At least you shed no pity sodden tears,
At least you shroud the men who understood,
That in a world of panic-deafened ears,
That all was not lost at Thermopylae,
Nor Gettysburg a windy mockery