High on the Ridge;
Visible from miles around.
73 thousand names,
Of those with bodies never found.

Portland stone
And red iron brick.
The names of the dead
Lie heavy and thick.

Men who lived but silent now;
Preserved forever for all to see.
Now memories from a time before,
Those who Died to keep Europe free

With birdsong of lark;
And kestrel in hovered flight.
Rest in peace,
The long never ending night.