Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/254

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PICQUART

Picquart, no brighter name on times to be
Thy country raises, nor all Europe vaunts,
Thou star of honor on the breast of France,
Soldier of justice; all men honor thee
Who to false honor would'st not bow the knee,
Nor parley with the time's intolerance;
Thou art of those to whom the whole world grants
The meed of universal memory.

Loyal to more than to thy sabre vows,
Kissed on the sword and hallowed oft with blood;
True to thy land's ideal of equal laws;
Champion of human rights; about thy brows,
Thy battles done, how fair thy laurels bud,
Thou lying dead, a victor in man's cause!

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