They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them…
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end they remain.
‘For the Fallen’, Laurence Binyon, The Times, 21 September 1914
(From The Winnowing Fan: Poems of the Great War in 1914)