MEN of war march bravely on, The field is easy to be won. There's no danger in that war Where lips both swords and bucklers are, Here's no cold to chill you, A bed of down's your field, Here's no sword to kill you, Unless you please to yield. Here's nothing to incumber, Here will be no scars to number. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 25 by JAMES JOYCE SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE SEVEN ARTS by ROBERT FROST EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL THE POET; SONNET by AMY LOWELL |