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Soldier Poets
Heaven lies upon their breasts at night,
Heaven kisses them at dawn;
Heaven clasps and kisses them at even
With fire of the sun's death born.
They turn to his desire
Their bosom, flushing higher
With soft receptive fire,
And blushing, passion-torn.
Here, in the hills of ages
I met thee face to face;
O mother Earth, O lover Earth,
Look down on me with grace.
Give me thy passion burning,
And thy strong patience, turning
And wrath to power, all yearning
To truth, thy dwelling-place.
Hymn to the Fighting Boar
GOD gave the horse for man to ride,
And steel wherewith to fight,
And wine to swell his soul with pride,
And women for delight:
But a better gift than these all four
Was when He made the fighting boar.
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