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Katharine Tynan - The Secret Foe
Work rating: Low

When now to battle he shall ride,
     The bravest of the brave,
Joan the Maid be by his side
     And Michael, quick to save.

Not against man`s most fell device
     The shell, the gas, the mine;
These he shall meet with steady eyes
     And courage half-divine.

Oh, not the gaping wounds and red
     And not the tortured sense,
And not the dying and the dead
     And his own impotence.

But when the joy of battle faints
     And his hot blood grows chill,
Be near him, all ye soldier saints,
     Lest Satan work him ill!

Lest in the hour of his great fight
     This foe should him assail,
The enemy that creeps by night
     Strike through his coat of mail.

Sebastian of the arrows, haste,
     Michael and the White Maid,
Lest in his splendid hour, at last,
     The soldier be afraid.
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