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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=510842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Fighting-Men</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=510842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">All the world over, nursing their scars,<br>Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars--<br>Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim<br>Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=510842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Dust of the battle o'erwhelmed them and hid.<br>Fame never found them for aught that they did.<br>Wounded and spent to the lazar they drew,<br>Lining the road where the Legions roll through.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=510842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sons of the Laurel who press to your meed,<br>(Worthy God's pity most--you who succeed!)<br>Ere you go triumphing, crowned, to the stars,<br>Pity poor fighting-men, broke in the wars!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Rudyard+Kipling">Rudyard Kipling</a></strong></div>

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