Classic Poem

" BY PATHLESS MARCH, BY GREENWOOD TREE "

By pathless march, by greenwood tree,
It is thy weird to follow me:
To follow me through the ghastly moonlight,
To follow me through the shadows of night,
To follow me, comrade, still art thou bound:
I conjure thee by the unstanched wound,
I conjure thee by the last words I spoke,
When the body slept and the spirit awoke,
In the very last pangs of the deadly stroke!