THE COUNTERSIGN
On guard my heavy Heart did stand,
And sleep had conquered her,
Had not one cold and rigid hand
Gripped honor like a spur.
It was the starkest watch of all,
The hour before the end.
Out rang the startled challenge-call:
“Halt! Who goes there?” “A Friend.”
“The countersign?” my spent Heart cried,
And forward-peering stood.
A Voice as strange as sweet replied:
“The word is BROTHERHOOD.”