Trained In The Holy Art Whose Lifted Shield Wards Off The Darts A Never-Slumbering Foe, By Hearth And Wayside Lurking, Waits To Throw, Oppression Taught His Helpful Arm To Wield The Slayer'S Weapon: On The Murderous Field The Fiery Bolt He Challenged Laid Him Low, Seeking Its Noblest Victim. Even So The Charter Of A Nation Must Be Sealed! The Healer'S Brow The Hero'S Honors Crowned, From Lowliest Duty Called To Loftiest Deed. Living, The Oak-Leaf Wreath His Temples Bound; Dying, The Conqueror'S Laurel Was His Meed, Last On The Broken Ramparts' Turf To Bleed Where Freedom'S Victory In Defeat Was Found.
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