Louis Untermeyer

Reveille

What sudden bugle calls us in the night
  And wakes us from a dream that we had shaped;
Flinging us sharply up against a fight
  We thought we had escaped.
 
It is no easy waking, and we win
  No final peace; our victories are few.
But still imperative forces pull us in
  And sweep us somehow through.
 
Summoned by a supreme and confident power
  That wakes our sleeping courage like a blow,
We rise, half-shaken, to the challenging hour,
  And answer it—and go.
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