War Leader Poem by Jerome Brooke

Through the waste marched the warriors,
Silent was the band.
In the swift, hot wind, were seen the men,
Quiet in the sand.

Gold, red gold, at their feet, gems,
Cast far, far away.
Swords no longer shone, as on parade,
Dull this fearful day.

My prince looked, saw this lost line,
Lost, dead on this dark day.
Men of the Queen, lost by fate,
Found where they fell, and lay.