64446: Callow Captain

The sun beams jovial from an ancient sky,
Flooding the round hills with heroic spate.
A callow captain, glaring, sword at thigh,
Trots out his charger through the camp gate.
Soon comes the hour, his marriage hour, and soon
He fathers children, reigns with ancestors
Who, likewise serving in the wars, won
For a much-tattered flag renewed honours.
A wind ruffles the book, and he whose name
Was mine vanishes; all is at an end.
Fortunate soldier: to be spared shame
Of chapter-years unprofitable to spend,
To ride off into reticence, nor throw
Before the story-sun a long shadow.