The Countersign by Helen Gray Cone

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THE QUIET DAYS

On guard my heavy Heart did stand, / And sleep had conquered her, / Had not one cold and rigid hand / Gripped honor like a spur.

It was the starkest watch of all, / The hour before the end. / Out rang the startled challenge-call: / "Halt! Who goes there? " "A Friend."

"The countersign? " my spent Heart cried, / And forward-peering stood. / A Voice as strange as sweet replied: / "The word is BROTHERHOOD. "

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