带着骄傲的感恩，一个母亲对她的孩子，英国在海的另一边哀悼她死去的母亲。他们是她的肉体中的肉体，她的灵魂中的灵魂，为自由的事业而牺牲。庄严的鼓声颤抖着;死亡庄严而高贵，它把悲伤歌唱到不朽的穹苍，在荒凉中有音乐，在我们的眼泪上闪耀着光辉。他们唱着歌奔赴战场，他们年轻，四肢挺拔，眼睛炯炯有神，沉着而容光焕发。面对数不清的困难，他们坚持到底;他们面朝敌人倒下了。他们必不衰老，像我们这些剩下的人必衰老。年龄不能使他们疲乏，岁月也不能使他们定罪。日落的时候，早晨的时候，我们都要记念他们。他们不再和嬉笑的同伴混在一起; They sit no more at familiar tables of home; They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; They sleep beyond England's foam. But where our desires are and our hopes profound, Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, To the innermost heart of their own land they are known As the stars are known to the Night; As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain; As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the end, to the end, they remain.