Poems (Trask)/After the Battle

by Clara Augusta Jones Trask

AFTER THE BATTLE.

Night settles on the mountain
 That flamed an hour ago
With all the grand insignia
 Of sunset's fiery glow;
And through the purple heavens,
 High in the amethyst,
The solemn stars are gleaming white
 Through the enshrouding mist.

For us, they look on quiet;
 On peaceful, happy homes;
We hear no roar of cannon,
 No crash of warlike drums;
We see no battle-banners,
 Bloody, and stained, and rent;
For us, no smoke of carnage
 Clouds the blue firmament.

O stars, and sweet moon, hanging
 Up in the breathless height!
What scenes of desolation
 Ye look upon, to-night!
On green fields blushing crimson;
 On bright swords wet with gore,
Dropped from strong hands which grasped them,
 But ne'er will grasp them more!

The night is gathering slowly;
 Some faces lie so calm,
You think the dead ears listen
 To the eternal psalm!—
Lie blankly gazing upward,
 Unheedful night has come,
The time the soldier folds his arms
 And dreams of friends and home.

They lie there all together,
 Rebel, and Union true;
Close, side by side, the uniforms
 Of gray, and Federal blue;
White-haired and bearded veterans,
 Youths with their locks of gold,
Whose pale, unchanging faces,
 Now, never will grow old!

The living claim our weeping;
 The dead, why sorrow o'er?
They have passed unto God, and He
 Cares for them evermore;
They've crossed the mystic river
 And reached the shadowy lands,—
We follow them no further,—
 We leave them in His hands.

O God! our hearts cry daily
 For all this strife to cease!
Give us the signal victory,
 And give us lasting peace!
Remove all strife and bitterness
 From our loved land afar,
And let the time come speedily
 When there shall be no war!