WE crown'd the hard-won heights at length, Baptiz'd in flame and fire; We saw the foeman's sullen strength, That grimly made retire -- Saw close at hand, then saw more far Beneath the battle-smoke The ridges of his shatter'd war, That broke and ever broke. But one, an English household's pride, Dear many ways to me, Who climb'd that death-path by my side, I sought, but could not see. Last seen, what time our foremost rank That iron tempest tore; He touch'd, he scal'd the rampart bank -- Seen then, and seen no more. One friend to aid, I measur'd back With him that pathway dread; No fear to wander from our track -- Its waymarks English dead. Light thicken'd: but our search was crown'd, As we too well divin'd; And after briefest quest we found What we most fear'd to find. His bosom with one death-shot riven, The warrior-boy lay low; His face was turn'd unto the heaven, His feet unto the foe. As he had fallen upon the plain, Inviolate he lay; No ruffian spoiler's hand profane Had touch'd that noble clay. And precious things he still retain'd, Which, by one distant hearth, Lov'd tokens of the lov'd, had gain'd A worth beyond all worth. I treasur'd these for them who yet Knew not their mighty wo; I softly seal'd his eyes, and set One kiss upon his brow. A decent grave we scoop'd him, where Less thickly lay the dead, And decently compos'd him there Within that narrow bed. O theme for manhood's bitter tears: The beauty and the bloom Of less than twenty summer years Shut in that darksome tomb! Of soldier-sire the soldier-son; Life's honor'd eventide One lives to close in England, one In maiden battle died: And they, that should have been the mourn'd, The mourners' parts obtain: Such thoughts were ours, as we return'd To earth its earth again. Brief words we read of faith and prayer Beside that hasty grave; Then turn'd away, and left him there, The gentle and the brave: I calling back with thankful heart, With thoughts to peace allied, Hours when we two had knelt apart Upon the lone hillside; And, comforted, I prais'd the grace Which him had led to be An early seeker of that Face Which he should early see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SENSE OF DIRECTION by KAREN SWENSON SONNET: 9. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY by JOHN MILTON HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 1. E.P. ODE POUR L'ELECTION DE SON SEPULCHRE by EZRA POUND CITY OF ORGIES by WALT WHITMAN RAMBLE OF THE GODS THROUGH BIRMINGHAM, SELECTION by JAMES BISSET |