Memories of a Military Funeral

We comrades had our part to play
That loathsome, sick, depressing day.
Through pouring rain and skies of grey
We said goodbye.

We shuffled down that teary aisle,
Each step we took, more like a mile.
The Padre, head bowed all the while,
Then blessed us all.

And stopping at the chosen spot
We turned about and braced his cot,
Then lay him down as soft as not
To wake the dead.

A silver bugle played its part,
The last post cut through every heart,
As each man felt that burning dart,
That was his loss.

We gathered round his final bed,
Each wishing Bill was here, instead
Of laying in this box, quite dead
And then we wept.