I WAS the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge. When I felt the bullet enter my heart I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary, Instead of running away and joining the army. Rather a thousand times the county jail Than to lie under this marble figure with wings, And this granite pedestal Bearing the words, "Pro Patria." What do they mean, anyway? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WIDOW MCFARLANE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FLAME LIGHTS UP by DAVID IGNATOW LOST LOVE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES BETSY'S BATTLE FLAG by MINNA IRVING ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 1 by PHILIP SIDNEY SONNET TO NIGHT by JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE LINES TO HANNAH AND PHOEBE by BERNARD BARTON |