Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
IX. The Sadness of It
The Soldier’s Death-bed
By Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793–1835)
 
LIKE thee to die, thou sun!—My boyhood’s dream
Was this; and now my spirit, with thy beam,
Ebbs from a field of victory!—yet the hour
Bears back upon me, with a torrent’s power,
Nature’s deep longings: Oh! for some kind eye,        5
Wherein to meet love’s fervent farewell gaze;
Some breast to pillow life’s last agony,
Some voice, to speak of hope and brighter days,
Beyond the pass of shadows! But I go,
I that have been so loved, go hence alone;        10
And ye, now gathering round my own hearth’s glow,
Sweet friends! it may be that a softer tone,
Even in this moment, with your laughing glee
Mingles its cadence while you speak of me:
Of me, your soldier, ’midst the mountains lying,        15
On the red banner of his battles dying.
 
 
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