Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/312

 312 BATTLE HYMN

PON his will he binds a radiant chain,

For Freedom's sake he is no longer free.

It is his task, the slave of Liberty,

With his own blood to wipe away a stain.

That pain may cease, he yields his flesh to pain

To banish war, he must a warrior be.

He dwells in Night, eternal Dawn to see,

And gladly dies, abundant life to gain.