The soldier called from rest or play
To take his post as sentinel,
To guard until the break of day
Some sore-beleaguered citadel,
Springs to his arms with beating heart
To take some war-worn veteran's place,
Proud to perform a soldier's part,
Dreading what yet he dares to face.
His comrades' footsteps on his ears
Ring fainter and fainter. Silence falls
About him. Moments seem like years,
And loneliness his soul appals.
But when the signal rockets flare
He strains his eyes the void to scan;
When sounds of battle fill the air
In face of death he plays the man.
He stays where duty bids him stay,
The boldest when he fears the most;
And Rounds, come whensoe'er they may,
Find him alert and at his post.
Unnumbered now the moments fly
By him whose thoughts are set upon
Each moment's task. The eastern sky
Brightens with dawn. The night is gone.
And hark, at last he grows aware
Of footsteps his release that tell.
Clear rings his challenge, "Who goes there?"
"Relief!" "Advance, Relief, all's well!"
1913.