  After the clangour of battle There comes a moment of rest, And the simple hopes and the simple joys And the simple thoughts are best. After the victor's pÆan, After the thunder of gun, There comes a lull that must come to all Before the set of the sun. Then what is the happiest memory? Is it the foe's defeat? Is it the splendid praise of a world That thunders by at your feet? Nay, nay, to the life-worn spirit The happiest thoughts are those That carry us back to the simple joys And the sweetness of life's repose. A simple love and a simple trust And a simple duty done, Are truer torches to light to death Than a whole world's victories won. Wilfred Campbell |
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