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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 407 of 446 · Third Series: Time and Eternity

Poem 20

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Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast;
Grant, God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest.

Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white,
I should not fear the foe then,
I should not fear the fight.

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