A CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR.
'Tis sad to read of these young lives
Poured out to please a tyrant's whim;
My manly soul within me strives
To burst its bonds and have at him.
But peace, my soul! we must be strong,
For conscience whispers, "War is wrong."
Poor lads! Poor lads! Their duty calls;
Their duty calls—no more they know;