THE wakening bugles cut the night: "To horse! To horse! Away!" And thine the lips that bid me go, The eyes that bid me stay. God make me blind for this one hour! God make me only hear That hurrying drum, -- that cry, "They come!" And thy "Good-by!" so near. O eyes that hold me with your tears! Think not your prayers I spurn: Eyes that must for a soldier dim, Not from a craven turn. O lips that bid me forth to fight, I take your challenge -- so! Where red death waits without the gates, Thy knight, and God's, -- I go! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BONDAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPRINGTIME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHERE? by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 4. NEW JERSEY by CLARENCE MAJOR VOICES OF THE AIR by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE MAN WITH THE HOE OUTWITTED by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: PENNIWIT, THE ARTIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |