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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!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow. Very intense. I love her imagery and descriptions.
I don't like it