Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VIII. National Spirit. 1904. | | | | III. War | | The Two Wives | | William Dean Howells (1837–1920) |
| | | THE COLONEL rode by his picket-line | |
| In the pleasant morning sun, | |
| That glanced from him far off to shine | |
| On the crouching rebel picket’s gun. | |
| |
| From his command the captain strode | 5 |
| Out with a grave salute, | |
| And talked with the colonel as he rode:— | |
| The picket levelled his piece to shoot. | |
| |
| The colonel rode and the captain walked,— | |
| The arm of the picket tired; | 10 |
| Their faces almost touched as they talked, | |
| And, swerved from his aim, the picket fired. | |
| |
| The captain fell at the horse’s feet, | |
| Wounded and hurt to death, | |
| Calling upon a name that was sweet | 15 |
| As God is good, with his dying breath. | |
| |
| And the colonel that leaped from his horse and knelt | |
| To close the eyes so dim, | |
| A high remorse for God’s mercy felt, | |
| Knowing the shot was meant for him. | 20 |
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| And he whispered, prayer-like, under his breath, | |
| The name of his own young wife: | |
| For Love, that had made his friend’s peace with Death, | |
| Alone could make his with life. | | | | |
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