Explore "Two Fusiliers" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
And have we done with War at last? / Well, we've been lucky devils both, / And there's no need of pledge or oath / To bind our lovely friendship fast, / By firmer stuff / Close bound enough.
By wire and wood and stake we're bound, / By Fricourt and by Festubert, / By whipping rain, by the sun's glare, / By all the misery and loud sound, / By a Spring day, / By Picard clay.
Show me the two so closely bound / As we, by the red bond of blood, / By friendship, blossoming from mud, / By Death: we faced him, and we found / Beauty in Death, / In dead men breath.