Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

To fight aloud is very brave - 
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Calvalry of Wo - 

Who win, and nations do not see - 
Who fall - and none observe - 
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love - 

We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go -
Rank after Rank, with even feet -
And Uniforms of snow.

1. Superiority to Fate
2. Hope (Hope is a subtle glutton)
3. The Forgotten Grave
4. Forbidden Fruit. I
5. I Think Just How My Shape Will Rise

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