Owen Seaman,
Punch, Volume 147, Issue 3810…
(19th and 20th century)
“ Ere warmth of Spring had stirred the wintry lands— Spring that for him had no renewing breath—He went apart to wait with folded hands. The lingering feet of Death.Long had he laid his burnished armour by, But still we flew his banner for a sign,Still felt his spirit like a rallying cry Hearten the fighting line. ”
