Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/199

Rh Whether I starve, or eat, or sleep,

Or live, or die, or sing, or weep.

And now the banners all are bright,

Now torn and blackened by the fight.

Sometimes its laughter shakes the sky,

Sometimes the groans of those who die.

Still through the night and through the livelong day

The infinite army marches on its remorseless way.

"LIFE IS THE COST"