 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
158
[XX. Bless God, he went as soldiers]
Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast;
Grant, God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest.
His musket on his breast;
Grant, God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest.
Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white,
I should not fear the foe then,
I should not fear the fight.
In epauletted white,
I should not fear the foe then,
I should not fear the fight.
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |