Into the field of battle he bravely took his place,
And fought and died for England and the honour of his race.
He sleeps not in his native land but ‘neath a foreign sky
Far from whose who love him best
But in a hero’s
grave he lies.
Gone from our home, but never from our hearts.
One year has passed, our hearts still sore
As time rolls on, we miss more.
His loving smiles, his welcome face,
No-one can fill his vacant place.
Sleep on, dear one, in far-off land
In a grave we may never see.
But as long as life and memory
We shall remember thee.
Written by George and Louisa Richardson
in memory of their son, Ernest George, who died on 29th July 1918 at the Battle of Marne, aged 26.