Verse > Anthologies > The World’s Best Poetry > Vol. VIII. National Spirit
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Bliss Carman, et al., eds.  The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VIII. National Spirit.  1904.
 
I. Patriotism
Veteran and Recruit
Edward Wentworth Hazewell (b. 1853)
 
HE filled the crystal goblet
  With golden-beaded wine:
“Come, comrades, now, I bid ye—
  ‘To the true love of mine!’
 
“Her forehead ’s pure and holy,        5
  Her hair is tangled gold,
Her heart to me so tender,
  To others’ love is cold.
 
“So drain your glasses empty
  And fill me another yet;        10
Two glasses at least for the dearest
  And sweetest girl, Lisette.”
 
Up rose a grizzled sergeant—
  “My true love I give thee,
Three true loves blent in one love,        15
  A soldier’s trinity.
 
“Here ’s to the flag we follow,
  Here ’s to the land we serve,
And here ’s to holy honor
  That doth the two preserve.”        20
 
Then rose they up around him,
  And raised their eyes above,
And drank in solemn silence
  Unto the sergeant’s love.
 
 
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