War, the Liberator, and Other Pieces/Death

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For works with similar titles, see Death.


BECAUSE I have made light of death
And mocked at wounds and pain,
The doom is laid on me to die—
Like the humble men in days gone by—
That angered me to hear them cry
For pity to me in vain.

I shall not go out suddenly
As many a man has done.
But I shall lie as those men lay—
Longing for death the whole long day—
Praying, as I heard those men pray,
And none shall heed me, none.

The fierce waves will go surging on
Before they tend to me.
Oh, God of battles I pray you send
No word of pity—no help, no friend,
That if my spirit break at the end
None may be there to see.