For By My Glee Might

I Dreamed Kind Jesus Fouled The Big-gun Gears; And Caused A Permanent Stoppage In All Bolts; And Buckled With A Smile Mausers And Colts; And Rusted Every Bayonet With His Tears.

I Tried To Peg Out Soldierly,--no Use! One Dies Of War Like Any Old Disease.

I Have Perceived Much Beauty In The Hoarse Oaths That Kept Our Courage Straight; Heard Music In The Silentness Of Duty; Found Peace Where Shell-storms Spouted Reddest Spate.

If I Have To Be A Soldier I Must Be A Good One, Anything Else Is Unthinkable

What Passing-bells For These Who Die As Cattle? Only The Monstrous Anger Of The Guns.