To You


To fight aloud , is very brave
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The cavalry of Woe


Who win , and nations do not see
Who fall - and none observe
Whose dying eyes , no Country
Regards with patriot love


We trust , in plumed procession
For Such , the Angels go
Rank after Rank , with even feet
And Uniforms of Snow


Emily Dickinson