Emily Dickinson: There Is A Word

There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man -
It hurls its barbed syllables,
And is mute again-
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted Brother
Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun -
Wherever roams the day -
There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul "forgot!"