What sudden bugle calls us in the night And wakes us from a dream that we had shaped; Flinging us sharply up against a fight We thought we had escaped. It is no easy waking, and we win No final peace; our victories are few. But still imperative forces pull us in And sweep us somehow through. Summoned by a supreme and confident power That wakes our sleeping courage like a blow, We rise, half-shaken, to the challenging hour, And answer it -- and go. |