Was it only yesterday Lusty comrades marched away? Now they're covered up with clay. Seven glasses used to be Called for six good mates and me— Now we only call for three. Little crosses neat and white, Looking lonely every night, Tell of comrades killed in fight. Hearty fellows they have been, And no more will they be seen Drinking wine in Nouex les Mines. Lithe and supple lads were they, Marching merrily away— Was it only yesterday? |