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Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson


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To fight aloud is very brave,
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The cavalry of woe.

Who win, and nations do not see,
Who fall, and none observe,
Whose dying eyes no country
Regards with patriot love.

We trust, in plumed procession,
For such the angels go,
Rank after rank, with even feet
And uniforms of snow.



Emily Elizabeth Dickinson


Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's other poems:
  1. The Wife
  2. Rouge Gagne
  3. The Book of Martyrs
  4. Whether My Bark Went Down at Sea
  5. Belshazzar Had a Letter


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