Threnody, November 11

November 11, 1992|By Sean Hyacinth

Softly rest, soldier, rest,

Though sullen foes have bled thee,

Softly rest, soldier, rest,

Where the paths of glory led thee.

Earth's warm breast envelops now

Your heart once lively beating.

Blood that flowed for noble cause

Marks footsteps slow retreating.

Across that chasm broad and wide,

A gulf whose width be taken,

Shines there a light, a brighter side,

A home, a faith unshaken?

Sleep, soldier, sleep,

There's none who'd dare upbraid thee.

Sleep, softly sleep,

Where your countrymen have laid thee.

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