At the Bars of Memory and Other Poems/The Victor
THE VICTOR
When you stand alone on the field once more,
And your face is bruis'd and red with gore,
And a sickening feeling fills your breast
As the fires of day die out in the west;
Oh, can you look back with pride at your fight,
As the twilight glow filters into the night?
Was it worth the pain, and the heart-aches and all.
Was it worth the deep dregs of bitter gall?
Was it worth the hard test you had to meet?
Was the vict'ry gain'd, satisfaction complete?
Did you wage a fight on a worth while plan?
And what have you won in the eyes of man?
Was it worth the shedding of precious blood?
Was it worth the loss'ning of sorrow's flood?
Was the effort worth while? Can time erase
The deep scars you have cut in your heart and face?
O victor alone on your battle field,
With your blunted sword and deep dented shield.
Look back o'er the past and count your gain
And tell me your conquests were not in vain;
Tell me the vict'ry your valor has won
Has earned you the right to a spot in the sun;
Tell me the sum of your spoils blood-wet
Is something more than a cross of regret!