In Titan fields, the green cloaks blow

Between the bodies, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The soldiers, still bravely fighting, fly

Scarce seen amid the blood above.

We are the Dead. Short days ago,

We lived, drank merrily, saw sunrise glow

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Titan fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe,

To you from failing hands we throw

The wings, be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though green cloaks blow

In Titan fields.