Classic Poem

My father was a soldier young, the finest you might see;
Took arms at fifteen, in two years he came to man's degree.
The field of honor he could hold,
He kept his station, gay and bold,
In blood, in fire, in hunger, cold, —
Ay, such a man was he.

I was a boy when peace was broke and he went forth to fight,
But still I mind his splendid stride, I mind him day and night;
His hat, his plume, his sunburnt hue,
The shadow of his eyebrows too,
His gallant form, so grand to view,
Will never leave my sight.

Then from our army in the north right soon were tidings brought
How fearless and how strong he was, how in each fight he fought.
He had a medal now to wear,
By next report he had a pair:
Ah me, how glorious to be there!
Within my heart I thought.

The winter passed, the snow was gone, the spring was blithe and brave,
When came the news: " Your father's dead, his life he nobly gave. "
Just how I felt I hardly ken,
Was now distressed, now glad again;
But mother wept three days, and then
Was carried to her grave.

Close to the banner he was killed that day on Lappo plain,
They said he never blenched in fight but there when he was slain.
At Uttismalm, for Gustav's land,
My grandsire died with sword in hand,
His father fell at Willmanstrand,
That was in Charles's reign.

'T was so it went, 't was so they bled, their course was clear and straight;
How glorious in their life they lived, and in their death how great!
Oh, who would plod on sluggishly?
Nay, hot with youth in battle-glee
Die for your king and country, see
How manlier such a fate!

I'm but a beggar boy myself, who eats of others' bread,
I've neither home nor shelter now, with both my parents dead;
But I've no wish to go and cry,
For taller every day am I,
To be a soldier boy I try,
And have no care or dread.

And if I live till I am big and reach fifteen some day,
To that same hunger, war, and death I'll go without dismay.
When whizzing bullets fill the air,
Whoever seeks may find me there,
For I in turn would follow where
My fathers led the way.