Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE, by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: My shoulders ache beneath my pack
Last Line: This millionth of thy gift. Amen.
Alternate Author Name(s): Kilmer, Joyce
Subject(s): Prayer; Soldiers; World War I; First World War


My shoulders ache beneath my pack
(Lie easier, Cross, upon His back).

I march with feet that burn and smart
(Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart).

Men shout at me who may not speak
(They scourged Thy back and smote Thy cheek).

I may not lift a hand to clear
My eyes of salty drops that sear.

(Then shall my fickle soul forget
Thy Agony of Bloody Sweat?)

My rifle hand is stiff and numb
(From Thy pierced palm red rivers come).

Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me
Than all the hosts of land and sea.

So let me render back again
This millionth of Thy gift. Amen.








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