But one the scar had ever seen.
Some said 't was got in valiant fight
With foe too strong; some hinted flight,
And wondered where “the scratch” had been,
And marveled he survived its might!

Month upon month, and year on year
Passed, and his dump lips gave no sign.
But men remarked, like some rare wine,
The smile, that brought to joy new cheer,
And gave to grief an anodyne.

While he lay dead, there drew apart
Two, whispering; then, their courage found,
They tore aside the band that bound;
A third, with woman's gentle art,
Hid with her hair his open wound.