John McChord

The Sharpest Arrow

Be the sharpest arrow

Or be you not at all

And when you strike the furrow

Hear the bugle call,

 

The heat that fills your blood

And the heart who pounds your head

Like the Kings before you led

To their foes, and foes to them are dead,

 

A heart once for you spilled over

His blood held high in battle

And past death did not surrender

This is truth above all other,

 

My brother, spend your days in war

When the day is done and your blood is shed

Only then will victory be had

Above your death remember,

Only one heart, and one way