SOLDIER, why do you shrink from the hiss of the hungry lead?
The bullet that whizzed is past; the approaching ball is dumb.
Stand straight! you cannot shrink from Fate: let it come!
A comrade in front may hear it whiz-when you are dead.
Destiny
John Boyle O'reilly
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Poem topics: fate, soldier, hear, straight, stand, hungry, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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