 | Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn |  |
lxxx
“I GIVE MY SOLDIER-BOY A BLADE.
“I give my soldier-boy a blade,
In fair Damascus fashioned well;
Who first the glittering falchion swayed,
Who first beneath its fury fell,
I know not, but I hope to know
That for no mean or hireling trade,
To guard no feeling base or low,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
In fair Damascus fashioned well;
Who first the glittering falchion swayed,
Who first beneath its fury fell,
I know not, but I hope to know
That for no mean or hireling trade,
To guard no feeling base or low,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
“Cool, calm, and clear, the lucid flood
In which its tempering work was done,
As calm, as clear, as cool of mood,
Be thou whene'er it sees the sun;
For country's claim, at honor's call,
For outraged friend, insulted maid,
At mercy's voice to bid it fall,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
In which its tempering work was done,
As calm, as clear, as cool of mood,
Be thou whene'er it sees the sun;
For country's claim, at honor's call,
For outraged friend, insulted maid,
At mercy's voice to bid it fall,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
“The eye which marked its peerless edge,
The hand that weighed its balanced poise,
Anvil and pincers, forge, and wedge,
Are gone with all their flame and noise—
And still the gleaming sword remains;
So, when in dust I low am laid,
Remember by those heart-felt strains,
I gave my soldier-boy a blade.”
The hand that weighed its balanced poise,
Anvil and pincers, forge, and wedge,
Are gone with all their flame and noise—
And still the gleaming sword remains;
So, when in dust I low am laid,
Remember by those heart-felt strains,
I gave my soldier-boy a blade.”
| Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn | |