THE cup, the ruby cup
Whence anguish drips,
At last is lifted up
Against our lips.
Though we, till seas run dry,
Your lovers are,
How can we put it by,
Red cup of war?
We champion your task;
Your wounds we bind;
Behind the battle mask
Our eyes are kind.
Upon this foaming edge
Of blood and flame,
With shuddering lips we pledge
Your name.
Back to Katharine Lee Bates
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