II. Love
X. Forgotten.
 

THERE is a word
        Which bears a sword
        Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,--
        At once is mute again.
But where it fell
The saved will tell
        On patriotic day,
Some epauletted brother
        Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun,
        Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
        There is its victory!

Behold the keenest marksman!
        The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
        Is a soul 'forgot'!