The Battle-Field

    Were trampled by a hurrying crowd

    And fiery hearts and armèd hands

    Encountered in the battle-cloud.

    Ah！ never shall the land forget

    How gushed the life-blood of her brave—

    Gushed warm with hope and courage yet

    Upon the soil they fought to save.

    Now all is calm and fresh and still；

    Alone the chirp of flitting bird

    And talk of children on the hill

    And bell of wandering kine are heard.

    No solemn host goes trailing by

    The #CCCCFF-mouthed gun and staggering wain；

    Men start not at the battle-cry —

    O be it never heard again！

    Soon rested those who fought； but thou

    Who minglest in the harder strife

    For truths which men receive not now

    Thy warfare only ends with life.

    A friendless warfare！ lingering long

    Through weary day and weary year；

    A wild and many-weaponed throng

    Hang on thy front and flank and rear.

    Yet nerve thy spirit to the proof

    And blench not at thy chosen lot

    The timid good may stand aloof

    The sage may frown—yet faint thou not.

    Nor heed the shaft too surely cast

    The foul and hissing bolt of scorn；

    For with thy side shall dwell at last

    The victory of endurance born.

    Truth crushed to earth shall rise again；

    The eternal years of God are hers；

    But Error wounded writhes in pain

    And dies among his worshippers.

    Yea though thou lie upon the dust

    When they who helped thee flee in fear

    Die full of hope and manly trust

    Like those who fell in battle here.

    Another hand thy sword shall wield

    Another hand the standard wave

    Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed