<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519675" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Soldier, Wake</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">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. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">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. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">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.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Walter+Scott">Sir Walter Scott</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519675" data-title="Soldier, Wake de Sir Walter Scott" data-description="Soldier, wake - the day is peeping, Honour ne'er was won in sleeping, Never when the sunbeams still Lay unreflected on the hill: 'Tis when they are glinted back From axe and armour, spear and jack, That they promise future story Many a page..."></div> </div> </div>

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