WINGÈD VICTORY

BY VICTOR WHITLOCK

O PATIENT, wounded warrior of the range,

Braving the might of all the storms that blow,

Breasting the bandit winds that never change,

Fighting forever with an unseen foe.

How your brave spirit breathes of sturdy cheer—

You that the ranger deems a worthless tree.

Triumphant Nature, sculptor without peer,

Has moulded you her Wingèd Victory.

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