8
There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man
It hurls its barbed syllables
And is mute again
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day
Some epauletted Brother
Gave his breath away
Wherever runs the breathless sun
Wherever roams the day
There is its noiseless onset
There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul "forgot!"