Soldiers of the light

by Helen Gray Cone

Borne upon wings of eagles, and saved in the midst of the waters,

Made to them gods of gold, even there, in the desert of Sinai.)

Guns of the Gettysburg heights, we hear you as out of the distance:

Cease not to roll, vast Echoes! Reverberate solemn, immortal!

Speak to us out of the past of the splendor of valor triumphant,

Speak of the splendor of valor transcending defeat, of the manhood

Tried to the utmost, and true to some lofty and ultimate brightness

Secretly set above self: O speak, that we too in our measure,—

Fallen on diverse days, far otherwise tempted and tested,—

Work the Eternal Will, in the chaos a force of salvation,