Ah, never, never, never! for the flag

Is twined about my body, and my back

Is braced against the wall! I know the lack

Of crust and water, and a man might brag

For fighting thus, yet—how a soul may lag,

For want of just so little, when the rack

Of hopeless strife from dawn to bivouac

Finds the foe now who storms the utmost crag.

Never surrender! You who storm my heart

Till I am faint with love and hunger, all

Starved for your lips—how can I say “depart”?

And yet—drag up the sword again—and thrust!

Ah, Love, mine enemy—I will not fall

Until my honour’s flag and I are dust.