I WAS the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge. When I felt the bullet enter my heart I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary, Instead of running away and joining the army. Rather a thousand times the county jail Than to lie under this marble figure with wings, And this granite pedestal Bearing the words, "Pro Patria." What do they mean, anyway? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CURFEW by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON CRITICS; IN IMITATION OF ANACREON by MATTHEW PRIOR SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 45 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON AIR: 'CAPTAIN JINKS' by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT TWO OF A KIND by WALTER TALLMADGE ARNDT MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE CHAMBER by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |