Explore "The Last Post" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The bugler sent a call of high romance -- / "Lights out! Lights out! " to the deserted square. / On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer, / "God, if it's _this_ for me next time in France. / O spare the phantom bugle as I lie / Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns, / Dead in a row with the other broken ones / Lying so stiff and still under the sky, / Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die. "