Under the level winter sky <br />I saw a thousand Christs go by. <br />They sang an idle song and free <br />As they went up to calvary. <br /> <br />Careless of eye and coarse of lip, <br />They marched in holiest fellowship. <br />That heaven might heal the world, they gave <br />Their earth-born dreams to deck the grave. <br /> <br />With souls unpurged and steadfast breath <br />They supped the sacrament of death. <br />And for each one, far off, apart, <br />Seven swords have rent a woman's heart.<br /><br />Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marching-men/
