The "Rank and File"

OH, blow for the Hero a trumpet,
Let him lift up his head in the morn;
A glory of glories is battle,
It is well for the world he was born.
Let him joy in the sound of the trumpet,
And sun in the world’s proud smile;
But what had become of the Hero,
Except for the “rank and file”?
Oh, grand is the Earth in her progress,
In her genius and art and affairs;
The glory of glories is progress,
Let the great find a joy in their cares.
Let the kings and the artists and statesmen
Look round them and proudly smile;
But what would become of the nation,
Except for the “rank and file ” ?
And when the brief days of this planet
Are all ended and numbered and told,
And the Lord shall appear in his glory,
And shall summon the young and the old,
For the Hero shall sound forth no trumpet,
For the great no welcoming smile;
Before the good Lord in his glory,
We are all “the rank and the file.”
H. H.