Against the peace of God.
Scorned or acclaimed, he kept his harness bright,
Still, through the darkest hour, untaught to yield,
And at the last, his face toward the light,
Fell on the victor's field.
No laurelled blazon rests above his bier,
Yet a great people bows its stricken head
Where he, who fought without reproach or fear,
Soldier of Christ, lies dead.