He Died on the Field, to Live in the Heart
He died on the field, to live in the heart,
Lifted are nations by heroes that fall;
Never we’ll know on which ground he took part;
But then, the truth is, he died on them all.
He held, on that day, “No evil shall pass!
No, not today, though I die at my post!”
Courage is not just a word by the crass,
But rises with flames, when duty calls most.
What shall we think of a life cut so short?
There once died a rose, that others might bloom;
What shall that death to the living report?
There once rose a call, that lives past the Tomb:
To face every danger, never to lag,
And to embody what’s meant by the flag.
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