| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 137. The Messages |
| | | By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson |
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| “I CANNOT quite remember…. There were five | |
| Dropt dead beside me in the trench—and three | |
| Whispered their dying messages to me….” | |
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| Back from the trenches, more dead than alive, | |
| Stone-deaf and dazed, and with a broken knee, | 5 |
| He hobbled slowly, muttering vacantly: | |
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| “I cannot quite remember…. There were five | |
| Dropt dead beside me in the trench, and three | |
| Whispered their dying messages to me…. | |
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| “Their friends are waiting, wondering how they thrive— | 10 |
| Waiting a word in silence patiently…. | |
| But what they said, or who their friends may be | |
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| “I cannot quite remember…. There were five | |
| Dropt dead beside me in the trench—and three | |
| Whispered their dying messages to me….” | 15 |
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