The Wounded

'Thou canst not wish to live,' the surgeon said. He clutched him, as a soul thrust forth from bliss Clings to the ledge of Heaven! 'Would'st thou keep this Poor branchless trunk?' 'But she would lean my head Upon her breast; oh, let me live!' 'Be wise.' 'I could be very happy; both these eyes Are left me; I should see her; she would kiss My forehead: only let me live.'-He dies Even in the passionate prayer. 'Good Doctor, say If thou canst give more than another day Of life?' 'I think there may be hope.' 'Pass on. I will not buy it with some widow's son!' 'Help,' 'help,' 'help,' 'help!' 'God curse thee!' 'Doctor, stay, Yon Frenchman went down earlier in the day.'