THOSE were the conquered, still too proud to yield -- These were the victors, yet too poor for shrouds! Here scarlet Slaughter slew her countless crowds Heaped high in ranks where'er the hot guns pealed. The brooks that wandered through the battlefield Flowed slowly on in ever-reddening streams; Here where the rank wheat waves and golden gleams, The dreadful squadrons, thundering, charged and reeled. Within the blossoming clover many a bone Lying unsepulchred, has bleached to white; While gentlest hearts that only love had known, Have ached with anguish at the awful sight; And War's gaunt Vultures that were lean, have grown Gorged in the darkness in a single night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MEMORY OF GENERAL GRANT by HENRY ABBEY WALLS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PETITION OF A SCHOOLBOY TO HIS FATHER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 14 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SHREWSBURY NIGHT by CHARLES WARE BORDEN HEART OF HAMPSHIRE by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |