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96 And I have seen, in the battle, Men who were staunch and true, Yet who turned aside when the foeman died, Groaning for him they slew. And, as I sit here and ponder, Living the whole again, I have sometimes thought, Which is dearest bought — Victor's or vanquished's pain ? But if the doubting had come, Nance, When I was called to fight ; I had parleyed not, but mine own good shot Should have struck home outright. None should have had it against me That I had turned aside, When the rear pressed on, and the front had gone, Or, as some phrased it, died. Now, as I puzzle it over, Something a truth reveals, That the soul is fed by its daily bread, Owes but the debt it feels.