The Great War

from A Calendar of Verse, an electronic edition

The Volunteer

Unconquered by the thought of death,

Or wounds that ache and bleed,

His veins are filled with throbbing fire

In the vast hour of need.

No selfish caution binds his hands,

Or chains his eager feet --

"On to the front!" his watchword is,

Through triumph or defeat.

A nation has the mighty power

His inmost soul to stir --

He does not deem it sacrifice

To give himself for her.