The Warrior
By John McCrae
He wrought in poverty, the dull grey days, But with the night his little lamp-lit room Was bright with battle flame, or through a haze Of smoke that stung his eyes he heard the boom Of Bluecher's guns; he shared Almeida's scars, And from the close-packed deck, about to die, Looked up and saw the "Birkenhead"'s tall spars Weave wavering lines across the Southern sky: Or in the stifling 'tween decks, row on row, At Aboukir, saw how the dead men lay; Charged with the fiercest in Busaco's strife, Brave dreams are his, the flick'ring lamp burns low, Yet couraged for the battles of the day He goes to stand full face to face with life.
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"He wrought in poverty, the dull grey days,..."
This evocative piece by John McCrae, titled "The Warrior", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...