They Went Forth to Battle, but They Always Fell

THEY went forth to battle, but they always fell;

Their eyes were fixed above the sullen shields;

Nobly they fought and bravely, but not well,

And sank heart-wounded by a subtle spell.

They knew not fear that to the foeman yields,

They were not weak, as one who vainly wields

A futile weapon; yet the sad scrolls tell

How on the hard-fought field they always fell.

It was a secret music that they heard,

A sad sweet plea for pity and for peace;

And that which pierced the heart was but a word,

Though the white breast was red-lipped where the sword

Pressed a fierce cruel kiss, to put surcease

On its hot thirst, but drank a hot increase.

Ah, they by some strange troubling doubt were stirred,

And died for hearing what no foeman heard.

They went forth to battle but they always fell;

Their might was not the might of lifted spears;

Over the battle-clamor came a spell

Of troubling music, and they fought not well.

Their wreaths are willows and their tribute, tears;

Their names are old sad stories in men’s cars;

Yet they will scatter the red hordes of Hell,

Who went to battle forth and always fell.