Three times the sun rose while the battle held, Three days of blinding-heat and fiery dust -- Three red eternities of breastwork shelled, Of charge, attack, repulse, and counterthrust. And in the soul of Meade, the soul of Lee, By every soldier's suffering torn and wrung -- What vain defeat, what frustrate victory, As to and fro the battle's fortune swung! For always on the leader's heart must fall The sharpest lash, the wounds that cannot heal; To them is given the wormwood and the gall Of hurling life against inhuman steel. And ever in the eyes of Meade and Lee There lay the shadow of that agony. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO J. D. H. (KILLED AT SURREY C. H., OCTOBER, 1866) by SIDNEY LANIER THE RESURRECTION by JONATHAN HENDERSON BROOKS A PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE by FRANCES (FANNY) MACARTNEY GREVILLE BALLAD OF THE WOMEN OF PARIS by FRANCOIS VILLON THREE THINGS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER THE SONG OF HER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PSALM 148 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE VOICE FROM THE CHORUS by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK |