Happed in mist these twenty-five eventful years seem to me now
And in all but one, a friendly gaze, a ghost of gladness by my side
With horse and plough, I marched with pride of the purest kind
Then a blink of light and it's Flanders field and the end of time

Through the flash and cannon's roar, I saw my Christine's smiling eyes
And with no more thought of blood or shell, I made my way to hold her near
But truth and honor's henchmen found me leaving here
And a madman's rave and a coward's grave for the volunteer

But in his eyes flew snipe and curlew, and his nose blew moistened air
In his mind, the wood the king stole, that robbed the land and laid it bare
And in his heart his lover's memory, singing on their wedding night
Where once the parks flowed thick with corn, that sullen tune is with him now

Happed in mist, the king's own rifles, ready, aim
The flowers of the forest are a' we'ed awa'