Comrades

Comrades written by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

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      AS I was marching in Flanders
      A ghost kept step with me--
      Kept step with me and chuckled
      And muttered ceaselessly:

      "Once I too marched in Flanders,
      The very spit of you,
      And just a hundred years since,
      To fall at Waterloo.

      "They buried me in Flanders
      Upon the field of blood,
      And long I've lain forgotten
      Deep in the Flemish mud.

      "But now you march in Flanders,
      The very spit of me;
      To the ending of the day's march
      I'll bear you company."

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