 | The ghost's entry and other poems |  |
163
TO NIGHT, THE HEALER
Soon as the battle's roar sinks low,
Thy ministers with tender arms
Into the hushing battle steal,
With balms and loving charms.
Thy ministers with tender arms
Into the hushing battle steal,
With balms and loving charms.
The wounded, lying in their pain,
(The dying, soon their wounds are healed!)
They give the enchanted cup, and bear
Far from the fevered field:
(The dying, soon their wounds are healed!)
They give the enchanted cup, and bear
Far from the fevered field:
Where rise the souls of brook and bird,
Where roses clamber to their dreams
From gardens of forgotten dew
In far auroral gleams.
Where roses clamber to their dreams
From gardens of forgotten dew
In far auroral gleams.
164
Thy spirits o'er their couches still
Wear shapes and features treasured fast;
The angels of the Present seem
The angels of the Past!
Wear shapes and features treasured fast;
The angels of the Present seem
The angels of the Past!
The morning finds them on the ground,
They waken in the eager field. ...
They were not wounded! Look, again
They grasp the sword and shield!
They waken in the eager field. ...
They were not wounded! Look, again
They grasp the sword and shield!
| The ghost's entry and other poems | |