It Was My Fault

A poem by Joseph Horatio Chant

Those men are deemed heroes who rush on the foe
Regardless of danger, and seek not to know
What others may do;
Stern duty demands it--why should they falter
If all they hold dear is laid on the altar,
And conscience be true?

The greatest of all is the man who can say
When battle is over and foe gained the day,
"The fault was in me:
My plan miscarried through miscalculation;
On me rests the blame, and not on the nation:
My soldiers are free."

In George Stewart White, and men of like mind,
Our nation can rest, for in them you will find
A true manliness;
Their failures acknowledged are failures no more;
Defeat to such men only opens the door
To future success.

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