HEROES.
Where the red path of battle sweeps,
Where martial feet have trod,
And Death the ripened harvest reaps,
To offer up to God;
Where steel and smoke and cannon roll
Awake the startled air,
You test the strength of fire and soul,
And find your heroes there.
Where martial feet have trod,
And Death the ripened harvest reaps,
To offer up to God;
Where steel and smoke and cannon roll
Awake the startled air,
You test the strength of fire and soul,
And find your heroes there.
I too, upon my scroll of fame,
Have set those names apart,
Whose blood was poured to quench the flame
That fired their country's heart;
Who looked beyond the shades of death,
Though doubt and fear were nigh,
And gave each pulse of life and breath,
That Freedom might not die.
Have set those names apart,
Whose blood was poured to quench the flame
That fired their country's heart;
Who looked beyond the shades of death,
Though doubt and fear were nigh,
And gave each pulse of life and breath,
That Freedom might not die.
But I have other names beside,
That you perhaps would scout,
For no great triumph broad and wide
Has rung their praises out:
That you perhaps would scout,
For no great triumph broad and wide
Has rung their praises out:
