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WOMAN ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE.
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Now must the trumpet's note,
Savage and shrill,
For requiem o'er thee float,
Thou fair and still!
And the swift charger sweep,
In full career,
Trampling thy place of sleep,—
Why camest thou here?
Why?—ask the true heart why
Woman hath been
Ever, where brave men die,
Unshrinking seen?
Unto this harvest ground
Proud reapers came,—
Some, for that stirring sound,
A warrior's name;
