The dying sunset's slanting rays <br />Incarnadine the soldier's deed, <br />His sturdy countenance betrays <br />The bull-dog breed. <br /> <br />Not his to shun the stubborn fight, <br />The struggle against cruel odds. <br />Alone, unaided 'tis a sight <br />For men and gods. <br /> <br />And now his back is bowed and bent, <br />Now stooping, now erect he stands, <br />And now the red life blood is sprent <br />From both his hands. <br /> <br />He takes his enemies on trust <br />As one who sees and yet is blind, <br />For every mutilating thrust <br />Comes from behind. <br /> <br />'Tis done ! The dying sun has gone, <br />But triumph fills the soldier's breast. <br />He's sewn his back brace button on <br />While fully dressed.<br /><br />Jessie Pope<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-outpost/
