ONLY A PRIVATE
by Margaret Junkin Preston
(1820-1897)

Only a private -- and who will care
    When I may pass away,
Or how, or why I perish, or where
    I mix with the common clay?
They will fill my empty place again
    With another as bold and brave;
And they'll blot me out ere the autumn rain
    Has freshened my nameless grave.
    
Only a private -- it matters not
    That I did my duty well,
That all through a score of battles I fought,
    And then, like a soldier, I fell.
The country I died for will never heed 
    My unrequited claim;
And History cannot record the deed,
    For she never has heard my name.
    
Only a private -- and yet I know
    When I heard the rallying-call
I was one of the very first to go,
    And . . . I'm one of the many who fall:
But as here I lie, it is sweet to feel
    That my honor's without a stain, --
That I only fought for my country's weal,
    And not for glory or gain.
    
Only a private -- yet He who reads
    Through the guises of the heart,
Looks not at the splendor of the deeds,
    But the way we do our part;
And when He shall take us by the hand,
    And our small service own,
There'll a glorious band of privates stand
    As victors around the throne!

Soldier Life

This page is http://civilwarpoetry.org/confederate/soldierlife/private.html
Last modified 18-April-2001