Two Poems by Sgt. Joyce Kilmer

Written in France, where he was killed in action, July 30, 1918.

The Peacemaker

Upon his will he binds a radiant chain,
   For Freedom’s sake he is no longer free.
   It is his task, the slave of Liberty,
With his own blood to wipe away a stain.
That pain may cease, he yields his flesh to pain.
   To banish war, he must a warrior be.
   He dwells in Night, eternal Dawn to see,
And gladly dies, abundant life to gain.

What matters Death, if Freedom be not dead?
   No flags are fair, if Freedom’s flag be furled.
Who fights for Freedom, goes with joyful tread
   To meet the fires of Hell against him hurled,
And has for captain Him whose thorn-wreathed head
   Smiles from the Cross upon a conquered world.

(June 14, 1918)

Prayer of a Soldier in France

My shoulders ache beneath my pack
(Lie easier, Cross, upon His back).

I march with feet that burn and smart
(Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart).

Men shout at me who may not speak
(They scourged Thy back and smote Thy cheek).

I may not lift a hand to clear
My eyes of salty drops that sear.

(Then shall my fickle soul forget
Thy Agony of Bloody Sweat?)

My rifle hand is stiff and numb
(From Thy pierced palm red rivers come).

Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me
Than all the hosts of land and sea.

So let me render back again
This millionth of Thy gift. Amen.

[Source.]

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Thu. 03/20/03 06:24:39 AM
Categorized as Literary & Most Notable & Religious & War.