Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHAT THE BULLET SANG, by FRANCIS BRET HARTE



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WHAT THE BULLET SANG, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: O joy of creation / to be!
Last Line: Lieth there so cold?
Alternate Author Name(s): Harte, Bret
Subject(s): Bullets; Death; Holidays; Memorial Day; Dead, The; Declaration Day


O JOY of creation
To be!
O rapture to fly
And be free!
Be the battle lost or won,
Though its smoke shall hide the sun,
I shall find my love, -- the one
Born for me!

I shall know him where he stands,
All alone,
With the power in his hands
Not o'erthrown;
I shall know him by his hands
By his godlike front and grace;
I shall hold him for a space,
All my own!

It is he -- O my love!
So bold!
It is I -- all thy love
Foretold!
It is I. O love! what bliss!
Dost thou answer to my kiss?
O sweetheart! what is this
Lieth there so cold?





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