Dead
There's an empty seat where the old folks meet,
When they offer their evening prayer,
And a look forlorn, for the dear one gone,
As they gaze on his vacant chair.
There's a silent grief finds never relief,
And a face whence the bloom has fled,
And a maiden fair, in her beauty rare,
Who weeps for her lover - dead.
There's a lonely grave, where a soldier brave,
Lies asleep in the southern land,
While a rusted gun still gleams in the sun,
On the parched and burning sand.
There's a home above, where the good God's love,
Its perfection ever discloses -
Where the soldier is blest with eternal rest,
And his quiet spirit reposes.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Related quotes
Brave Little Soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother’s Cry of Late
Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!
What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!
Now go you well!
Amen! ’
What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.
‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What You Find
There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!
TY bohls
Only A Soldier's Grave
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by,
For soldiers, like other mortals, die.
Parents had he - they are far away;
No sister weeps o'er the soldier's clay;
No brother comes, with tearful eye;
It's only a soldier's grave - pass by.
True, he was loving, and young, and brave,
Though no glowing epitaph honors his grave;
No proud recital of virtues known,
Of griefs endured, or triumphs won;
No tablet of marble, or obelisk high; -
Only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet bravely he wielded his sword in fight,
And he gave his life in the cause of right!
When his hope was high, and his youthful dream
As warm as the sunlight on yonder stream;
His heart unvexed by sorrow or sigh; -
Yet, 'tis only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet, we should mark it - the soldier's grave,
Some one may seek him in hope to save!
Some of the dear ones, far away,
Would bear him home to his native clay:
'Twere sad, indeed, should they wander nigh,
Find not the hillock, and pass him by.
poem by S.A. Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton
There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!
I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.
poem by Caleb Jones
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Only A Soldier's Grave
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by,
For soldiers, like other mortals, die.
Parents he had--they are far away;
No sister weeps o'er the soldier's clay;
No brother comes, with a tearful eye:
It's only a soldier's grave--pass by.
True, he was loving, and young, and brave,
Though no glowing epitaph honors his grave;
No proud recital of virtues known,
Of griefs endured, or of triumphs won;
No tablet of marble, or obelisk high;--
Only a soldier's grave--pass by.
Yet bravely he wielded his sword in fight,
And he gave his life in the cause of right!
When his hope was high, and his youthful dream
As warm as the sunlight on yonder stream;
His heart unvexed by sorrow or sigh;--
Yet,'tis only a soldier's grave:--pass by.
Yet, should we mark it--the soldier's grave,
Some one may seek him in hope to save!
Some of the dear ones, far away,
Would bear him home to his native clay:
'Twere sad, indeed, should they wander nigh,
Find not the hillock, and pass him by.
poem by Sidney Alroy Jonas
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Soldier's Ghost
I bled for you - would you for me?
I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'
I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?
My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!
I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?
Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
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Dear, Soldier Boy
Dear, Soldier Boy,
How I miss you so.
I think about you everyday,
And when you're coming home.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I hope you write back soon.
Tomorrow's Sarah's birthday.
Her party starts at noon.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I love you more each day.
My love for you grows stronger,
The longer you're away.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I haven't heard from you at all.
Maybe I will get a letter,
By the time of Fall.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
June 15,2008.
They told me you were wounded,
And they got you help too late.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
How I miss you so.
I think about you everyday,
And why you didn't come back home
poem by Jessica Beal
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One Morning In May
One morning, one morning, one morning in may
I spied a young couple, they were making their way
One was a maiden so bright and so fair
And the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer
Good morning, good morning, good morning said he
And where are you going my pretty lady
Im goig out a walkin on the banks of the sea
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Now they had not been standing but a minute or two
And out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew
And the tune that he played made the valleys all ring
Oh hark cried the maiden hear the nightingale sing
Oh maiden fair maiden tis time to give oer
Oh no kind soldier please play one tune more
For Id rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string
Than to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Oh soldier kind soldier will you marry me
Oh no pretty maiden that never shall be
Ive a wife in london and children twice three
Two wives and the armys too many for me
Well Ill go back to london and Ill stay there for a year
Its often that Ill think of you my little dear
And if ever I return it will be in the spring
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
To see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song of Truce
Till the tread of marching feet
Through the quiet grass-grown street
Of the little town shall come,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
While the banners idly hang,
While the bugles do not clang,
While is hushed the clamorous drum,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
In the breathing-time of Death,
While the sword is in its sheath,
While the cannon's mouth is dumb,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
Not too long the rest shall be.
Soon enough, to Death and thee,
The assembly call shall come.
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Little Soldier Boy
Little Soldier boy, fight hard.
Fight for your country, your family, your friends.
Fight for me, little soldier boy.
Keep your head high, your spirit strong.
Be safe, little soldier boy.
Return in one piece.
And if the Lord should take you home,
then so be it.
We love you, little soldier boy.
We pray for you every night.
And hope to hold you tight soon.
I love my little soldier boy.
Come home little soldier boy.
Come back to your family.
Come back to me.
My little soldier boy.
Come home soon.
poem by Nedra Pepin
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The Fallen Soldier
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home.
Trickling Down His Face A Tear,
Forgetting How It Feels To Fear
Death And All It's Fate And Glory.
Now It's Here, No Need To Worry.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
He's One Of Those They'll All Forget;
The Life He Lived, The Goals He Set,
The Ones He Loved, The Ones Who Wait
To See His Nearly Forgotten Face.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Now Breathing's Just A Waste Of Breath
And Living's Just A Waste Of Death
As He Searches For A New Address;
A Brand New Home Free Of Loneliness.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Lying Motionless On The Ground,
The Battle Raging All Around.
For Now He Is Not All Alone.
This Fallen Soldier Is Welcomed Home.
poem by Branden Hidalgo
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My Young Soldier;
My young soldier,
Brave as can be.
My young soldier,
Don't stop fighting.
My young soldier,
You have so much strength.
My young soldier,
Please don't die on me.
My young soldier,
I love you so very much.
My young soldier,
I miss you so dearly.
My young soldier,
Come home to me.
poem by Heather Sandvoss
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Victorious Soldier
Fighting for his country,
Not knowing if he will live.
Brave soldier
Standing up for what he believes
and fighting for freedom.
Brave soldier
Fighting for whats right,
Dying Heroes, Dying evil men
Brave soldier
Leaving every thing he owns
To be loyal to his country.
Brave soldier.
Coming home at end of war....
Victorious soldier.
poem by Megan Streett
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Nameless Soldier
A bayoneted rifle stuck in the ground
with a soldier’s helmet on it
lies as a marker for a solder buried there
in the haste of battle.
No more will he see the joy again
within his loved ones eyes.
No more will he feel the tears on his cheeks
as they leak down from his eyes.
His is just a lonely grave
that is crying out for a name
like hundreds there with just a rife as a marker.
At home, and mothers weep for their lost sons
who fell before their time
leaving their ghost to roam
across a soon forgotten battlegrounds.
The grave will lay unattended
all the time fighting prevails.
Only a rifle stuck in the ground
will tell all someone is lying there.
The nameless soldier
whose flesh had been torn to shreds
lies silent and at peace
in a land far from his home.
22 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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SOLDIER OF LOVE dedicated to Ms. Helenfalosade Adu
Soldier of Love 2009
I AM
The soldier of love
so I wear my armor de amor
I walk with conviction
with my head held high
in the twilight
knowing your spirit
will protect me
in the moon's shadows
and in my dreams
is upon where we meet
the BATTLEFIELDS
we conquered
and both of hearts have suffered
we try to nurse each others wounds
these words i give to you
there are imprints
imprints in the sands of Somalia
where I did not find pearls
but I found something more rare
your voice it trailed
it guided me to safety it led me to
the ocean I seen in a lucid dream
tranquil waters
I stopped and looked down
by the oceans floor to pick up
a shell I put to my ear
I heard your voice
I t was eternal
eternal yo are eternal you shall forever be
and I kept on my journey
because I am a soldier of love.
poem by Sonia Zamorano
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Alone the soldier is....
Alone the soldier is...
lying on his bunk
in a unfamiliar land
thousands of miles from home
her picture at hand
his thoughts...
reliving old memories of home
his thoughts...
wondering, thinking of her
Alone the soldier is...
standing in the hot sun
in a unfamiliar land
thousands of miles from home
his rifle at hand
his eyes...
looking all around
his thoughts...
memories of home
Alone the soldier is....
at heart, at thought
thousands of miles from home
the 'Dear John' letter at hand
his eyes...
filled with watery tears
his thoughts...
wishing it were a nightmare
Alone the soldier is...
lying in his grave
in a dark cold casket
her picture at hand
his eyes....
see no more pain
his heart...
feels no more grief
poem by Anthony Scott
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Young Soldier
Stay calm soldier
Do not panic
Stay calm soldier
And think of what you were taught
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Run soldier
From the danger ahead
Run soldier
Don't be brave
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Fight soldier
The enemy that fights you
Fight soldier
And make it though the day
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Come home soldier
I miss you terribly
Come home soldier
To me and your family
You're too young to die
My soldier
Don't ever leave me
poem by Only Yours
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Our Soldier Cousin
Glide, river, gently to the sea;
Sing dirges low and tender;
Bear partings oft breathed near to thee,
By patriot truth-defenders;
Waft soothing murmurs from thy shores,
To hearts so fondly loving;
One sigh for us, who, more and more,
Grieve for a soldier cousin.
Glow, campfires, with your glittering gleam,
On hill, in covert valley,
While dim the flickering taper beams,
Upon his pallet lowly.
Dread fever dried his young life's fount,
Yet reason came at even;
He spoke of home, then upward mounts
His soul - that soldier cousin's.
'Twas this he said - to them now dear,
These words, so so fitly spoken -
'Tell father, mother, sister, there,
My hold on life's most broken;
Yes, dear ones, only brother lone,
Weep not - but live for Heaven;
I'm happy now - meet me at home'.
Thus died our soldier cousin.
Ah! noble cousin, on that morn,
When 'cross the Rappahannock,
So noiseless fled those warrior forms,
Hid by thy brave band's banner,
Did'st think so soon thy weary feet,
This river'd cross to Heaven.
While angels covered thy retreat,
Safe over - soldier cousin?
To think we were at home with thee,
But six short months agone,
And as thy sister pressed the keys,
We all joined in the song!
But now thou'rt gone! - o'er ruined joys,
Like call of the Muezzin,
Echo brings back our manly voice,
Our noble soldier cousin.
Now, as the lone ones in thy home,
Surround the hearth at even,
And calmly close the sacred tome,
And raise the song to Heaven,
They pause and sigh, and tear drops fall,
For no more thou art coming,
To kneel in prayer with the loved all,
At home - dear soldier cousin.
Yet though they miss thee through long hours,
Faith fills the vacant chair,
Points upward to the heavenly bowers,
And sweetly saith 'He's there!'
Ah, yes, 'he's there!' His Christian heart
Would heed his country's bidding;
He's done the patriot hero's part -
God loves our soldier cousin!
There's cheer in this, too, mourning ones,
We know our Christian cousin,
When ranked with freedom's noble sons,
Was bannered sure for Heaven.
Then weep no more; press back the tears,
Save for the fond hearts riven,
Who mourns their dead mid hope and fear,
But 'at home' is our soldier cousin.