Comrade, Why Do You Weep? Is It Sorrow For A Friend Who Fell, Rifle In Hand, His Last Stand At An End? The Thunder-Lipped Grey Guns Lament Him, Fierce And Slow, Where He Found His Dreamless Bed, Head To Head With A Foe. The Sweet Lark Beats On High For The Peace Of Those Who Sleep In The Quiet Embrace Of Earth: Comrade, Why Do You Weep?