A SONG for the good fighting men, That through the red dawn hurry by! For tramp of hoofs from hill and fen; For clash of spears from sky to sky! The wars that left us all undone, And stripped of each poor thing but breath, Battle by battle shall be won, And every foe thrust down to death. For them the very stars shall quake; For them the curving waters dry; The abyss grow smooth; the crag-side make A hundred paths along the sky. But we, the broken soldiers, we, Whom pipe and hearth do solace now, Or when the warmer weathers be, A bench beneath some thick-leaved bough -- How stirs that lost thing in our blood! After so long the old desire! The leaping breath, the primal mood, After our lean years at the fire! Then, for the pity of those years, Our throats quick with some hard delight, We cheer that company of spears, Until it dwindles out of sight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: 20. A HAPPY MARRIAGE by THOMAS CAMPION UPON HIS PICTURE by THOMAS RANDOLPH THE BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES by FRANCOIS VILLON |