such is the death the soldier dies: He falls,—the column speeds away; Upon the dabbled grass he lies, His brave heart following, still, the fray. The smoke-wraiths drift among the trees, The battle storms along the hill; The glint of distant arms he sees; He hears his comrades shouting still. A glimpse of far-borne flags, that fade And vanish in the rolling din: He knows the sweeping charge is made, The cheering lines are closing in. Unmindful of his mortal wound, He faintly calls and seeks to rise; But weakness drags him to the ground:— Such is the death the soldier dies.
Such Is the Death the Soldier Dies
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