VICTORY: BEING A CHANT AFTER BATTLE.
Reading edition
As we marched into the desert And sang unto the stars, The sky looked kindly on us And the pain of battle scars No longer seemed to rack us; While the folly of the fray Was burned upon us, Singed upon us, Branded by the day; Till crimson in that holy night Shone forth those deeds of Mars, As we marched into the desert And hymned unto the stars. And backward: trodden was the grass, And crimson were the lands, And crimson were the ghosts that rose, And crimson ran the sands. Yet we marched into the desert And chanted to the stars. L. H. Bickford.
