NO pipes have skirled; But heaven's wildest music blares; Above the compound lightning flares, The rain is whirled. No drums shall roll -- Only a private soldier gone! The cold light paints no funeral stone -- No bell need toll! He lived his tame And little day of silent tasks And silent duty -- no one asks To know his name. The milestones fade Along the road that he has come. No cheer of music takes him home -- His wage is paid. The wind shrills high; The darkened day is chasing grief With lash of blinding rain -- and brief The footfalls die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MOTHER TO HER WAKING INFANT by JOANNA BAILLIE MOTHERHOOD by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE BELL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES WHAT THE THRUSH SAID by JOHN KEATS THE WEATHER-COCK POINTS SOUTH by AMY LOWELL THERMOPYLAE by SIMONIDES OF CEOS |