Soldier, wake - the day is peeping, <br />Honour ne'er was won in sleeping, <br />Never when the sunbeams still <br />Lay unreflected on the hill: <br />'Tis when they are glinted back <br />From axe and armour, spear and jack, <br />That they promise future story <br />Many a page of deathless glory. <br />Shields that are the foe man's terror, <br />Ever are the morning's mirror. <br /> <br />Arm and up - the morning beam <br />Hath call'd the rustic to his team, <br />Hath call'd the falc'ner to the lake, <br />Hath call'd the huntsman to the brake; <br />The early student ponders o'er <br />His dusty tomes of ancient lore. <br />Soldier, wake - thy harvest, fame; <br />Thy study, conquest; war, thy game. <br />Shield, that would be foeman's terror, <br />Still should gleam the morning's mirror. <br /> <br />Poor hire repays the rustic's pain; <br />More paltry still the sportsman's gain; <br />Vainest of all, the student's theme <br />End in gome metaphysic dream. <br />Yet each is up, and each has toil'd <br />Since first the peep of dawn has smiled; <br />And each is eagerer in his aim <br />Than he who barters life for fame. <br />Up, up, and arm thee, son of terror! <br />Be thy bright shield the morning's mirror.<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/soldier-wake/
