THE soldier fought his battle silently. Not his the strife that stays for set of sun; It seemed this warfare never might be done; Through glaring day and blinding night fought he. There came no hand to help, no eye to see; No herald's voice proclaimed the fight begun; No trumpet, when the bitter field was won, Sounded abroad the soldier's victory. As if the struggle had been light, he went, Gladly, life's common road a little space; Nor any knew how his heart's blood was spent; Yet there were some who after testified They saw a glory grow upon his face; And all men praised the soldier when he died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CONSECRATED GROUND; READ AT THE NEW YORK CITY HALL by EDWIN MARKHAM THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM CHARLOTTE CORDAY (REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL, JULY 17, 1793) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |