Yours to-day and ours to-morrow,
Hither, comrade, hence to go;
Yours the joy and ours the sorrow,
Yours the weal and ours the woe.
What the profit of the stronger?
Life is loss and death is gain;
Though we live a little longer,
Longer life is longer pain.
Which the better for the weary--
Longer travel? Longer rest?
Death is peace, and life is dreary:
He must die who would be blest.
You have passed across the borders,
Death has led you safely home;
We are standing, waiting orders,
Ready for the word to come.
Empty-handed, empty-hearted,
All we love have gone before,
And since they have all departed,
We are loveless evermore.
Yours to-day and ours to-morrow,
Hither, comrade, hence to go;
Yours the joy and ours the sorrow,
Yours the weal and ours the woe.