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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Song of Truce</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Till the tread of marching feet<br>Through the quiet grass-grown street<br>Of the little town shall come,<br>Soldier, rest awhile at home.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">While the banners idly hang,<br>While the bugles do not clang,<br>While is hushed the clamorous drum,<br>Soldier, rest awhile at home.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the breathing-time of Death,<br>While the sword is in its sheath,<br>While the cannon's mouth is dumb,<br>Soldier, rest awhile at home.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Not too long the rest shall be.<br>Soon enough, to Death and thee,<br>The assembly call shall come.<br>Soldier, rest awhile at home.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+Fuller+Murray">Robert Fuller Murray</a></strong></div>

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