| HARRY WILMANS! You who fell in a swamp | |
| Near Manila, following the flag, | |
| You were not wounded by the greatness of a dream, | |
| Or destroyed by ineffectual work, | |
| Or driven to madness by Satanic snags; | 5 |
| You were not torn by aching nerves, | |
| Nor did you carry great wounds to your old age. | |
| You did not starve, for the government fed you. | |
| You did not suffer yet cry “forward” | |
| To an army which you led | 10 |
| Against a foe with mocking smiles, | |
| Sharper than bayonets. You were not smitten down | |
| By invisible bombs. You were not rejected | |
| By those for whom you were defeated. | |
| You did not eat the savorless bread | 15 |
| Which a poor alchemy had made from ideals, | |
| You went to Manila, Harry Wilmans, | |
| While I enlisted in the bedraggled army | |
| Of bright-eyed, divine youths, | |
| Who surged forward, who were driven back and fell, | 20 |
| Sick, broken, crying, shorn of faith, | |
| Following the flag of the Kingdom of Heaven. | |
| You and I, Harry Wilmans, have fallen | |
| In our several ways, not knowing | |
| Good from bad, defeat from victory, | 25 |
| Nor what face it is that smiles | |
| Behind the demoniac mask. | |
