Dirge for Two Veterans.

1

THE last sunbeam

Lightly falls from the finish’d Sabbath,

On the pavement here—and there beyond, it is looking,

Down a new-made double grave.



2

Lo! the moon ascending!

Up from the east, the silvery round moon;

Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly phantom moon;

Immense and silent moon.



3

I see a sad procession,

And I hear the sound of coming full-key’d bugles;

All the channels of the city streets they’re flooding,

As with voices and with tears.



4

I hear the great drums pounding,

And the small drums steady whirring;

And every blow of the great convulsive drums,

Strikes me through and through.



5

For the son is brought with the father;

In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell;

Two veterans, son and father, dropt together,

And the double grave awaits them.



6

Now nearer blow the bugles,

And the drums strike more convulsive;

And the day-light o’er the pavement quite has faded,

And the strong dead-march enwraps me.



7

In the eastern sky up-buoying,

The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin’d;

(’Tis some mother’s large, transparent face,

In heaven brighter growing.)



8

O strong dead-march, you please me!

O moon immense, with your silvery face you soothe me!

O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!

What I have I also give you.



9

The moon gives you light,

And the bugles and the drums give you music;

And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,

My heart gives you love.