Page:Poems Kimball.djvu/287

She thinks of others brave and true hid in the smoke of battle,
Where bayonets gleam and cannon roar and bullets hiss and rattle.

She shudders while the words of fate along the wires are chasing,
Or trembling waits the hurried line some comrade may be tracing;
Her heart grows faint; she lifts her hands in anguished imploration:
"God save my soldier!" first she prays, and then, "God save the nation!"

And when she moans, "The very thought of loss doth overcome me!"
Crying, "If it be possible, oh let this cup pass from me!"
God chides her not if, choked with sobs, she adds to her petition
But brokenly Christ's after-words of meekness and submission.

He saw her pale with victory in the dark hour of trial,
When Self lay slain, and sorrowing Love was lettered with denial;