"Indeed," inquired Dalroy..."Do the officials in Parliament say "Who goes home?"
"Yes," answered Wimpole indifferently. "It's apart of some old custom in the days when members of Parliament might be attacked in the street."
"Well," inquired Dalroy in a rational tone"Why aren't they attacked in the street?... It's a holy mystery"
In the city set upon slime and loam
They cry in their parliament "Who goes home?"
And there come no answer in arch or dome,
Fore none in the city of graves goes home.
Yet these shall perish and understand,
For God has pity on this great land.
Men that are men again: Who goes home?
Tocsin and trumpeter! Who goes home?
For there's blood on the field and blood on the foam
And blood on the body, when Man goes home.
And a voice valedictory... Who is for Victory?
Who is for Liberty? Who goes home?