Emily Dickinson,
There is a word
“ Can pierce an armed man - It hurls it's 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 it's noiseless onset - There is it's victory! Behold the keenest marsman! The most accomplished host! Time's sublimest target Is a soul "forgot"! ”
