by Joyce Kilmer
The bugle echoes shrill and sweet
But not of war it sings today.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
Of men-at-arms who come to pray
The rose blossoms white and red
On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
And martial music cleaves the sky.
Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
They plunged for Freedom and the Right.
May we, their grateful children, learn
Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
At last the accolade of God.
In shining rank on rank arrayed,
They march, the legions of the Lord;
He is their Captain unafraid,
The Prince of Peace.....who brought a sword.
Poem found at:
(Archive of World Poetry)
Eagle Graphic for Background provided by
Midi playing is:
Largo from Xerxes
by George Frederich Handel