Ball's Bluff

A Revene (October 1861)

 

One noonday, at my window in the town,

I saw a sight-saddest that eyes can see-

Young soldiers marching lustily

Unto the wars,

With fifes, and flags in mottoed pageantry;

While all the porches, walks, and doors

Were rich with ladies cheering royally.

 

They moved like Juny morning on the wave,

Their hearts were fresh as clover in its prime

(It was the breezy summer time),

Life throbbed so strong,

How should they dream that Death in a rosy clime

Would come to thin their shining throng?

Youth feels immortal, like the gods sublime.

 

Weeks passed; and at my window, leaving bed,

By night I mused, of easeful sleep bereft,

On those brave boys (Ah War! thy theft);

Some marching feet

Found pause at last by cliffs Potomac cleft;

Wakeful I mused, while in the street

Far fooffalls died away till none were left.

 

Shiloh

A Requiem (April 1862)

 

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,

The swallows fly low

Over the field in clouded days,

The forest-field of Shiloh-

Over the field where April rain

Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain

Through the pause of night

That followed the Sunday fight

Around the church of Shiloh-

The church so lone, the log-built one,

That echoed to many a parting groan

And natural prayer

Of dying foemen mingled there-

Foemen at morn, but friends at eve

Fame or country least their care:

(What like a bullet can undeceive!)

But now they lie low,

While over them the swallows skim,

And all is hushed at Shiloh.

 

By Herman Melville

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