Where Are You Sleeping To-Night, My Lad?

Where are you sleeping to-night, My Lad,     Above-ground--or below?     The last we heard you were up at the front,     Holding a trench and bearing the brunt;--         But--that was a week ago.     Ay!--that was a week ago, Dear Lad,     And a week is a long, long time,     When a second's enough, in the thick of the strife,     To sever the thread of the bravest life,         And end it in its prime.     Oh, a week is long when so little's enough     To send a man below.     It may be that while we named your name     The bullet sped and the quick end came,--         And the rest we shall never know.     But this we know, Dear Lad,--all's well     With the man who has done his best.     And whether he live, or whether he die,     He is sacred high in our memory;--         And to God we can leave the rest.     So--wherever you're sleeping to-night, Dear Lad,     This one thing we do know,--     When "Last Post" sounds, and He makes His rounds,     Not one of you all will be out of bounds,         Above ground or below.