THE bugler sent a call of high romance -- "Lights out! Lights out!" to the deserted square. On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer, "God, if it's this for me next time in France... O spare the phantom bugle as I lie Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns, Dead in a row with the other broken ones Lying so stiff and still under the sky, Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MOMENT by HAYDEN CARRUTH MISSING THE BO IN THE HENHOUSE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON O SOUTHLAND! by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AUTUMN SONG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |