 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
47
AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD.
This fair broad stretch of level grass,
Spangled with bee and bloom and bud,
A few short years ago, alas,
Was one wide waste of death and blood.
Spangled with bee and bloom and bud,
A few short years ago, alas,
Was one wide waste of death and blood.
Here boomed the cannon's thunderous roar,
And strong arms strove, and brave hearts bled;—
The sickened earth was dark with gore,
And heaped and cumbered with the dead.
And strong arms strove, and brave hearts bled;—
The sickened earth was dark with gore,
And heaped and cumbered with the dead.
But now, how different! Tender notes
Of love and gladness fill the air,
The mocking-birds' melodious throats
Bubble with music everywhere;
Of love and gladness fill the air,
The mocking-birds' melodious throats
Bubble with music everywhere;
The wild plants blossom as of old,
Before the world had ever sinned;
The pink azalea's buds unfold
And sweeten every wandering wind;
Before the world had ever sinned;
The pink azalea's buds unfold
And sweeten every wandering wind;
The strawberry-bloom's clear whiteness shows
No red remembrance of a stain,
Although the sod whereon it grows
Was deluged once with crimson rain.
No red remembrance of a stain,
48
Was deluged once with crimson rain.
And daily on the slope's green breast
The tribes of blossoming things increase—
But dearer far than all the rest
The fair white flower whose name is Peace—
The tribes of blossoming things increase—
But dearer far than all the rest
The fair white flower whose name is Peace—
Whose gracious leaves to heal the ills
Which sapped the nation's life are sent—
Whose fragrance blesses all the hills—
Whose fruits are plenty and content.
Which sapped the nation's life are sent—
Whose fragrance blesses all the hills—
Whose fruits are plenty and content.
As some wise mother's tender thought
Forgives her children's angry strife,
Conceals the wrong their wrath has wrought,
And builds thereon a gentler life;
Forgives her children's angry strife,
Conceals the wrong their wrath has wrought,
And builds thereon a gentler life;
So Nature's great maternal soul
Forgives the petty wars of men,—
Forgets the battle's awful roll,
And bids the bluebird sing again;
Forgives the petty wars of men,—
Forgets the battle's awful roll,
And bids the bluebird sing again;
And from the trampled sod, restored
By summer rain and winter snow,
Blots out the track of fire and sword,
And makes the purple violets grow.
By summer rain and winter snow,
Blots out the track of fire and sword,
And makes the purple violets grow.
Richmond, Virginia.
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