I'LL sing you a song with a full, deep breath — For my blood runs fast by its artery walls — Of strong men brave in the presence of death, And quick and quiet when duty calls. Of a foot that is firm on the brink of the pit, Of a hand with a grip that can never tire, Of a will as strong as a Spanish bit, And a heart that's been tried by fire. I honor the men who have fought and died For the sake of the land which they loved, but still, Alas! for the courage of homicide, Condemned by God's edict, "Thou shalt not kill!" But the men who jump at the ring of the bell And harness the horses, strong and fleet, Each strap in its place and buckled well, And in fifteen seconds are in the street; Who climb through the smoke and the fire's fierce roar, Though the blazing roof may come crashing through — Those are the men that I honor more, For they are both brave and human, too. And when I read how one more has tried To save a life, and has paid the price Which our Lord paid once, and has nobly died, And has climbed on his ladder to Paradise; And I know that his comrades had done the same Had they been where he was — my pulses thrill, And I humbly say, "I am much to blame, In this sordid world there are heroes still." |