The Battlefield, By Sydney Oswald AROUND no fire the soldiers sleep to-night, But lie a-wearied on the ice-bound field, With cloaks wrapt round their sleeping forms, to shield Them from the northern winds. Ere comes the light Of morn brave men must arm, stern foes to fight. 5 The sentry stands, his limbs with cold congealed; His head a-nod with sleep; he cannot yield, Though sleep and snow in deadly force unite. Amongst the sleepers lies the Boy awake, And wide-eyed plans brave glories that transcend 10 The deeds of heroes dead; then dreams o?ertake His tired-out brain, and lofty fancies blend To one grand theme, and through all barriers break To guard from hurt his faithful sleeping friend.