Sonnets on the War :: :: University of Virginia Library

The groan of armies fallen; a hot glare
Of Cities; Battle-cries of Right and Wrong;
The tramp of charging hosts; the thunderous gale
Of Navies rocked in War; o'er all a wail,
Wild, wan, ulùlant, long-prolonged along
The moaning caverns of the plaining air,
The cry of conscious Fate. The firmament
Waves from above me like a tattered flag;
And as a soldier in his lowly tent
Looks up when a shot strikes the helpless rag
From o'er him, and beholds the canopy
Of Heaven, so, sudden to my startled eye,
The Heavens that shall be! The dream fades. Istand
Among the mourners of a mourning land.