For the regiment of the Cameronian Highlanders - France WW1
Bitter the pages filled in pain
the mourning soldier o' battle's stain
that e'er for so little the blood did flow
the iniquity of the moment, a tear should know.
They left the fields, the pits, the seas
To fill the ditches like hoarding bees
they lived but to die and that no more
the living but dead, shattered, sore.
Countless fallen, blood filled fields
A picture of pictures that history yields
The blasting shells, tormented hells
the devils dance, the human yells.
What mortal can but grieve in pain
for the silent fallen, the unknown name
we drift from seas of battles and wars
with pride full zest our vision soars.
But lament, lament the young men dead
them all never a better lifted head
but drowned to the promise of a fresh morn
we lament you from hearts that are torn.