Classic Poem

What sudden bugle calls us in the night
—And wakes us from a dream that we had shaped;
Flinging us sharply up against a fight
——We thought we had escaped?

It is no easy waking, and we win
—No final peace; our victories are few.
But still imperative forces pull us in
——And sweep us somehow through.

Summoned by a supreme and confident power
—That wakes our sleeping courage like a blow,
We rise, half-shaken, to the challenging hour,
——And answer it—and go. . . .