Soldiers May Grow A Soul

Happy Are Men Who Yet Before They Are Killed Can Let Their Veins Run Cold.

Numbers Of The Old People Cannot Read. Those Who Can Seldom Do

The Young Soldier It Is Not Death Without Hereafter To One In Dearth Of Life And Its Laughter, Nor The Sweet Murder Dealt Slow And Even Unto The Martyr Smiling At Heaven: It Is The Smile Faint As A (waning) Myth, Faint, And Exceeding Small On A Boy's Murdered Mouth.

I, Too, Saw God Through Mud - The Mud That Cracked On Cheeks When Wretches Smiled. War Brought More Glory To Their Eyes Than Blood, And Gave Their Laughs More Glee Than Shakes A Child.

And Some Cease Feeling Even Themselves Or For Themselves. Dullness Best Solves The Tease And Doubt Of Shelling