THE bugler sent a call of high romance -- "Lights out! Lights out!" to the deserted square. On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer, "God, if it's this for me next time in France... O spare the phantom bugle as I lie Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns, Dead in a row with the other broken ones Lying so stiff and still under the sky, Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIVE TREES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE STATUE AND THE BUST by ROBERT BROWNING BOLDNESS IN LOVE by THOMAS CAREW EPITAPH FOR SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, AT ST. PAUL'S WITHOUT A MONUMENT ... by EDWARD HERBERT THE FIGHT OF THE ARMSTRONG PRIVATEER by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1883 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |