The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery :: :: University of Virginia Library

Noon into eve, and eve to night hath roll'd;
The heavens with starry eyes are set: but, see!
No wafted banners, flapping like the wings
Of eagles in their glorious strength; no steeds
Pawing and prancing with erected manes;
No warriors hand to hand; no sword to sword
Confronted, till from out some bloody gap
Their spirits bound into eternity!—
But heaps of corses, lines of dead laid out,
Unhelmeted, or gash'd and gory; men
Whose morning-beauty shamed the risen sun,
With glassy eyeballs gleaming on the moon!
A living host hath deaden'd into clay:—
No more! away, O Death! and count thy dead.