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BY JOHN G. NICOLAY.
THE wide world is the soldier's home,
His comrades are his kin ; His palace-roof the welkin dome, The drum his mandolin. He gives to air All thoughts of care, And trolls his serenade To fiery Mars, The king of stars, That never love betrayed.
The banner is the soldier's bride,
The love of bold and brave;
His wedding-feast, the battle-tide;
His marriage-bed the grave.
Where the bullets sing,
Death's leaden wing, Light as a dancing feather,
When hero falls,
To glory's halls, Wafts life and love together.