The Soldier and His Love

THE SOLDIER AND HIS LOVE The soldier pales at news of doom It deals a heavy clout; Her face so recently in bloom, Now filled with fear and doubt. That news – Oh God, that awful news To which he must respond; That face – that loving face so dear From which he must depart. The soldier knows he must atone For sins without a pardon - His soul feels like a tomb of stone Her tears have written on. Those tears - those burning tears of fear That all who love must feel; His soul - his wounded soul of stone All those who kill must have. The melted honey summer days Give way to winter’s tears; And those once glazed and golden rays Transform to icy fears. Those fears - those numbing fears that chill All memories of bliss; Those tears - those freezing tears of fear All those who love must have. “Oh hurry home; don’t linger long!” She’s frantic and forlorn. But all this plea does is prolong, His pain so bravely borne. That dreaming girl - with eyes of hope Which long for Victory’s gleam; That anguished man - who feels Death’s gaze And must accept his fate. [Intended as a Ballad]