NO pipes have skirled; But heaven's wildest music blares; Above the compound lightning flares, The rain is whirled. No drums shall roll -- Only a private soldier gone! The cold light paints no funeral stone -- No bell need toll! He lived his tame And little day of silent tasks And silent duty -- no one asks To know his name. The milestones fade Along the road that he has come. No cheer of music takes him home -- His wage is paid. The wind shrills high; The darkened day is chasing grief With lash of blinding rain -- and brief The footfalls die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON I AM BORNE ONWARD by SARA TEASDALE MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MY PRETTY ROSE TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A CHRISTMAS GHOST-STORY; CHRISTMAS-EVE 1899 by THOMAS HARDY MY AUNT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD. THE AUTHOR THAN FORTY by MATTHEW PRIOR |