Wake not for the world-heard thunder, br Nor the chimes that earthquakes toll; br Stars may plot in heaven with planet, br Lightning rive the rock of granite, br Tempest tread the oakwood under, br Fear not you for flesh or soul; br Marching, fighting, victory past, br Stretch your limbs in peace at last. br br Stir not for the soldier's drilling, br Nor the fever nothing cures; br Throb of drum and timbal's rattle br Call but men alive to battle, br And the fife with death-notes filling br Screams for blood--but not for yours. br Times enough you bled your best; br Sleep on now, and take your rest. br br Sleep, my lad; the French have landed, br London's burning, Windsor's down. br Clasp your cloak of earth about you; br We must man the ditch without you, br March unled and fight short-handed, br Charge to fall and swim to drown. br Duty, friendship, bravery o'er, br Sleep away, lad; wake no more.