Casualty

John Delaney of the Rifles has been shot. A man we never knew, Does it cloud the day for you That he lies among the dead Moving, hearing, heeding not? No history will hold his humble name. No sculptured stone will tell The traveller where he fell; That he lies among the dead Is the measure of his fame. When our troops return victorious shall we care The deaf to all the cheers Lacking tribute of our tears, He is lying with the dead Stark and silent, God knows where? John Delaney of the Rifles – who was he? A name seen on a list All unknown and unmissed, What to us that he is dead?- Yet he died for you and me.