"Companions," said he [Saturninus], "you have lost a good captain, to make of him a bad general.
Napoleon's troops fought in bright fields where every helmet caught some beams of glory; but the British soldier conquered under the cold shade of aristocracy.
The greatest general is he who makes the fewest mistakes.
Judge not that ye be not judged; we carried the torch to the goal.
The goal is won: guard the fire: it is yours: but remember our soul Breathes through the life that we saved, when our lives went out in the night: Your body is woven of ours: see that the torch is alight.</poem>
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo;
No more on Life's parade shall meet
The brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round
The bivouac of the dead.
Miles gloriosus.
The bragging soldier.
Plautus. Title of a comedy.
But off with your hat and three times three for
Columbia's true-blue sons;
The men below who batter the foe—the men
behind the guns!
John Jerome Rooney—The Men Behind the Guns.
I want to see you shoot the way you shout.
Roosevelt. At the meeting of the Mayor's
Committee on National Defense. Madison
Square, Oct., 1917. Speech to the audience
after their enthusiastic demonstration over
the patriotic addresses.
A thousand leagues of ocean, a company of kings,
You came across the watching world to show how heroes die.
When the splendour of your story
Builds the halo of its glory,
'Twill belt the earth like Saturn's rings
And diadem the sky.
"M.R.C.S." In Arusac. On Colonial Soldiers.
(1919)
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{{Hoyt quote
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| text = <poem>Tis a far, far cry from the "Minute-Men,"
And the times of the buff and blue
To the days of the withering Jorgensen
And the hand that holds it true.
'Tis a far, far cry from Lexington
To the isles of the China Sea,
But ever the same the man and the gun—
Ever the same are we.
Edwin L. Sabin—The American Soldier. In Munsey's Mag. July, 1899.
Abner . . . smote him under the fifth rib.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Scott—Lady of the Lake. Canto I. St. 31.
Although too much of a soldier among sovereigns, no one could claim with better right to
be a sovereign among soldiers.
Scott—Life of Napoleon.
Warriors!—and where are warriors found,
If not on martial Britain's ground?
And who, when waked with note of fire,
Love more than they the British lyre?
Scott—Lord of the Isles. Canto IV. St. 20.
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| topic = Soldiers
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{{Hoyt quote
| num = 15
| text = Yet what can they see in the longest kingly
line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?
Scott—Woodstock. Ch. XXXVII.
Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.
As You Like It. Act II. Sc. 7. L. 149.
Arm'd at point exactly, cap-a-pie.
Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 200.
I thought upon one pair of English legs
Did march three Frenchmen.
Give them great meals of beef and iron and
steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like
devils.
I am a soldier and unapt to weep
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
Henry VI. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 134.
I said an elder soldier, not a better.
Did I say, better?
Julius Caesar. Act rV. Sc. 3. L. 56.
Fie, my Lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd?
Macbeth. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 41.
Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
Macbeth. Act V. Sc. 5. L. 51.
God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.
Macbeth. Act V. Sc, 8, L. 47,
