He was an ex-artillery man. God knows the devious paths by which he came To be day-man on a Dakota farm. Too frail for such hard tasks was that gaunt frame Burned up by evil living. Seamed and worn Was that dark face and dull those staring eyes. Yet there were times he wore his garments torn As if they were his country's uniform. Once of the light artillery, now he rode The clashing disc or drove the jingling drill, But when the four great horses forward surged. Memory, it seemed, had power to rouse him still. Out of that ruin of a man would rise The soldier, poised, alert, revitalized. As he swept past with taut reins lifted high Almost one heard the caissons rumbling by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A MOMENT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE GROVES OF BLARNEY by RICHARD ALFRED MILLIKIN THE MAID OF NEIDPATH by WALTER SCOTT A QUESTION by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE VORTICIST POEM ON LOVE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS AGAMEMNON: HELEN. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 2 by LUCY AIKEN |