IN CLOUDS DESCENDING, IN MIDNIGHT SLEEP.
1
IN clouds descending, in midnight sleep, of many a face of
anguish,
Of the look at first of the mortally wounded — of that
inde- scribable
look;
Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide,
I dream, I
dream, I dream.
2
Of scenes of nature, the fields and the mountains;
Of the skies, so beauteous after the storm — and at night
the moon so
unearthly bright,
Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches
and gather
the heaps, I
dream, I dream, I dream.
3
Long have they pass'd, long lapsed — faces and trenches
and fields;
Long through the carnage I moved with a callous
compos- ure
— or away from the fallen,
Onward I sped at the time — But now of their forms at
night, I
dream, I dream, I dream.
