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Gordon, Hanford Lennox, 1836-1920

"The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems"

'
He gravely said:
"'Tis vain; for I have done
With camp and march and battle. Ere the dawn
Shall I be mustered out of your command,
And mustered into the Grand Host of heaven.'
"I sought a surgeon on the field and found;
With me he came and opened the bloody blouse,
Felt the dull pulse and sagely shook his head.
A musket ball had done its deadly work;
There was no hope, he said, the man might live
A day perchance--but had no need of him.
I called his comrades and we carried him,
Stretched on his blankets, gently to our camp,
And laid him by the camp-fire. As the light
Fell on Paul's face he took my hand and said:


PART II
PAUL' S HISTORY

"Captain, I hear the cheers. My soul is glad.
My days are numbered, but this glorious day--
Like some far beacon on a shadowy cape
That cheers at night the storm-belabored ships--
Will light the misty ages from afar.
This field shall be the Mecca. Here shall rise
A holier than the Caaba where men kiss
The sacred stone that flaming fell from heaven.
But O how many sad and aching hearts
Will mourn the loved ones never to return!
Thank God--no heart will hope for my return!
Thank God--no heart will mourn because I die!
Captain, at life's mid-summer flush and glow,
For him to die who leaves his golden hopes,
His mourning friends and idol-love behind,
It must be hard and seem a cruel thing.


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