Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/249

MY GODCHILD Erect, with shining head,

The great Republic claims her dead;

Nor, in that day when every stripe and star

Proclaims the reign of Peace,

Shall honor to him cease

Nor Fame his laurel mar.

Though no battle-peal awake him,

Time upon its scroll shall make him

One of Earth's heroes dead

Whose deeds that golden day more swiftly sped.

MY GODCHILD

(TO R. K. P. D.)

219