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1918
GOD rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, | |
| But—leave your sports a little while—the dead are borne this way! | |
| Armies dead and Cities dead, past all count or care. | |
| God rest you, merry gentlemen, what portent see you there? | |
| Singing:—Break ground for a wearied host | 5 |
| That have no ground to keep. | |
| Give them the rest that they covet most … | |
| And who shall next to sleep, good sirs, | |
| In such a trench to sleep? | |
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| God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, but give us leave to pass. | 10 |
| We go to dig a nation’s grave as great as England was. | |
| For this Kingdom and this Glory and this Power and this Pride | |
| Three hundred years it flourished—in three hundred days it died. | |
| Singing:—Pour oil for a frozen throng, | |
| That lie about the ways. | 15 |
| Give them the warmth they have lacked so long … | |
| And what shall be next to blaze, good sirs, | |
| On such a pyre to blaze? | |
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| God rest you, thoughtful gentlemen, and send your sleep is light! | |
| Remains of this dominion no shadow, sound, or sight, | 20 |
| Except the sound of weeping and the sight of burning fire, | |
| And the shadow of a people that is trampled into mire. | |
| Singing:—Break bread for a starving folk | |
| That perish in the field. | |
| Give them their food as they take the yoke … | 25 |
| And who shall be next to yield, good sirs, | |
| For such a bribe to yield? | |
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| God rest you, merry gentlemen, and keep you in your mirth! | |
| Was ever Kingdom turned so soon to ashes, blood, and earth? | |
| ’Twixt the summer and the snow—seeding-time and frost— | 30 |
| Arms and victual, hope and counsel, name and country lost! | |
| Singing:—Let down by the foot and the head— | |
| Shovel and smooth it all! | |
| So do we bury a Nation dead … | |
| And who shall be next to fall, good sirs, | 35 |
| With your good help to fall? | |
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