Semi Weekly Standard

Semi-Weekly Standard.

No tinsel on his collar shines
Nor epaulette, nor star;
But calm and fire in serried lines
Amid the crash of war.
The private stands and gives his life
Foremost of all in battle strife;
While in his soul the holy light
Of laurel burns pure and bright—
Bold Private in the ranks!

Tis not to win the stripe or star
He rushes to the light,
But strong of arm and free of fear,
He battles for the Right!
He heeds no voice but duty's call
He breasts the bullets—stand or fall—
Our Private in the Ranks!

All, all have gone! Our country's woes
Have wrung their hearts so warm;
And mother, wife, and little ones,
No ill shall know, nor harm;
The sire with scarce a year to live—
The son with all his life to give—
Are Privates in the ranks!

And when the whispering word-wing'd wire
Proclaims the battle done,
Shout toddling brat, and boastful sire,
Huzzah! our braves have won!"
We search the dead rolls then with care
Perchance some kinsman's name is there
'Mong Privates in the ranks!

Yet meed of praise we will bestow
On all who bear the scars;
And care but little what they wore,
Coarse gray, or stars, or bars;
But most our love belongs to those
Who bravely met their nation's foes,
As Privates in the ranks!