The volley's rattle, fierce and sharp,
The thunder-bass of cannon-throat;
That sang of fields where Glory swayed,
But wingless Victory paused, and stayed
To see her only flag unfurled;
That summoned, as a bugle blown;
That challenged, as a trumpet's tone;
That quickened, as a bolt is thrown
From heaven, to shake the world!
Ah! must we then renounce the theme
That first can rouse and best inspire,
The splendor of the soldier's dream,
The ardor of the patriot's fire?
When each, to sternest duty bowed,
Makes all, as common kindred, proud,
And blots the long reproach of Time, -
When Youth forgets what most is fair,
And Age assumes a nobler care,
And Manhood, as a wave in air,
Heaves high, to fall sublime!
The virtues, poured in lavish flood
To whelm our coarser Self in shame;
pure infection of the blood
That burned for loftier meed than fame,
Must these be lost? or absent now
The song of lip, the light of brow,
Remembering they were doubly ours
And, though we honor both as one,
That strain of blood, in both begun,
Say, lies it buried from the sun,
Beneath memorial flowers?
Is the true measure of the man,
Though once alone he caught the speed
That every baser aim outran.
What once a moment is, assures
The certainty of what endures,
And thus its sacred law decrees;
So ye, whom battle spared or scarred,
Safe-sheltered now from disregard,
Harken to England's blind old bard:
"Peace hath her victories!"
What once, in fiery test of war,
So proved itself, must ever stand, To make the land worth living for,
Since others died to save the land! Take from their lips the parted breath! Make Life as glorious as is Death
To them that triumph when they fall. Still bid the phantom squadrons throng; Their purpose and their will prolong To guard the Right, repel the Wrong, And giving, gain, their all!
Are they but soldiers who enlist
When peril shocks the Nation's heart? Who leave the maiden's lips unkissed,
Or kiss the wife and child, and part?
But soldiers then, when calls the drum
And calls the flashing bayonet: “Come!"
And batteries challenge: "If you dare!"—
When all the standards wave unfurled,
And other clouds than Heaven's are hurled
To dim the beauty of the world,
And death floats free in air!
They most are soldiers, who shall keep
That climax of their manhood yet;
Who stand on guard when others sleep
And bear in mind what all forget!
Not in the clash of steel is found,
For them, the only battle-ground:
Equipped and armed, through life they go,
Their hearts' best blood resolved to spend,
Where Honor shows some grander end,
For whom each true man is a friend,
And each false man a foe!
If knaves beguile, by felon art,
The shifting favor of the hour;
If civic rule from right depart,
And brazen Impudence has power:
If low Ambition buy his place
While Merit waits in half-disgrace,
Still undecided sways the fight:
The bugle still to charge commands;
There is no truce of tongues or hands,
No quarter, while one foeman stands
To mock eternal Right!
The idle blade is gnawed with rust,
Though meteor of a hundred fields;
The lance, unhandled, falls to dust,
That proved its grain on shivered shields.
And Manhood, that has learned to dare,
Should as a sword his courage wear,
His honor as a flag defend; -
Should stand, amid the heedless host,
A lifelong sentry at his post,
His sole device and knightly boast:
To break, but not to bend!
Soldiers of Peace! - in war began
Your service, and it must not cease
Until the soldier through the man
Has conquered and ennobled peace!
Frank eyes of youth grow bright, to trace
A spell on each historic face
That sets your lives their own above;
And woman's homage, sweet and shy,
Not woman's pride shall dare deny,
Since he who readiest is to die
One loyal habit summons all
From out the dust of old desires.
One spark of truth your deeds let fall
Shall fill the land with fresher fires! Though Youth's belief be Manhood's doubt, And generous hopes be trampled out By cynic scorn or selfish will,
Yet honor stays, devotion burns,
And pride that mean concession spurns:
No man his early faith unlearns,
And keeps his manhood still!
This, Soldiers, be your chosen fate,
Your fame that longest shall endure;
'Tis noble, thus to save a State,
But nobler yet to make it pure.
For all whose swords were bravely crossed
There is no true cause that was lost!
Defeat unites with Victory
To win, for each, a grander aim,
One Fatherland, redeemed from blame;
One Past, of sadder, prouder fame;
One Future, just and free!
WHO serves his country best?
Not he who, for a brief and stormy space,
Leads forth her armies to the fierce affray.
Short is the time of turmoil and unrest,
Long years of peace succeed it and replace:
There is a better way.
Who serves his country best?
Not he who guides her senates in debate,
And makes the laws which are her prop and stay;
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