| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 103. The Battlefield |
| | | By Sydney Oswald |
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| AROUND no fire the soldiers sleep to-night, | |
| But lie a-wearied on the ice-bound field, | |
| With cloaks wrapt round their sleeping forms, to shield | |
| Them from the northern winds. Ere comes the light | |
| Of morn brave men must arm, stern foes to fight. | 5 |
| The sentry stands, his limbs with cold congealed; | |
| His head a-nod with sleep; he cannot yield, | |
| Though sleep and snow in deadly force unite. | |
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| Amongst the sleepers lies the Boy awake, | |
| And wide-eyed plans brave glories that transcend | 10 |
| The deeds of heroes dead; then dreams o’ertake | |
| His tired-out brain, and lofty fancies blend | |
| To one grand theme, and through all barriers break | |
| To guard from hurt his faithful sleeping friend. | |
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