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SONGS OF COMRADES.
And I have seen, in the battle,
Men who were staunch and true,
Yet who turned aside when the foeman died,
Groaning for him they slew.
And, as I sit here and ponder,
Living the whole again,
I have sometimes thought, Which is dearest bought —
Victor's or vanquished's pain ?
But if the doubting had come, Nance,
When I was called to fight ;
I had parleyed not, but mine own good shot
Should have struck home outright.
None should have had it against me
That I had turned aside,
When the rear pressed on, and the front had gone,
Or, as some phrased it, died.
Now, as I puzzle it over,
Something a truth reveals,
That the soul is fed by its daily bread,
Owes but the debt it feels.
