Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - third series (1896).djvu/172

 158 POEMS.

��XX.

��T3LESS God, he went as soldiers, ^^ His musket on his breast ; Grant, God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest.

��Please God, might I behold him

In epauletted white, I should not fear the foe then,

I should not fear the fight.

�� �