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
They 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
~*~
Poem by Joyce Kilmer
Beautiful poem, very touching. <3
ReplyDeleteIt is very touching. I love how the author parallels each of the soldier's sufferings to one of Christ's sufferings.
DeleteWow, this is beautiful, Ceci. <333
ReplyDeleteIt is very beautiful. My teacher couldn't get through it without crying. :)
DeleteYes, thanks. I just needed to cry.
ReplyDeleteI hope it was a cry in a good way! But this poem is the perfect one to cry to.
DeleteWow. That was a very deep poem. Makes me respect our soldiers all the more.
ReplyDeleteCatherine
catherinesrebellingmuse.blogspot.com
It does bring respect to our brave men and women. Sometimes, I feel as they don't get enough respect. It's a shame, for because of them, we have freedom.
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