And Death in all its ghastliness—Around

The dim watchfires stood like a burning wall

Betwixt the dead and living. On that night

Ye saw me, ye pure ministers of heaven,—

Shone on my anguish and my bitter tears.

Then, when the mangled forms of fellow-men,

With hideous passion stiff upon their lips,

Blanch'd 'neath the twilight of your glimmering!

Oh! there lay one beside me—a mere youth—

Whose dying hands had pressed unto his lips

A long fair tress, through which his dying sigh

Crept, as in happier days perchance did love's.

Witness, ye stars, of my abasement then,

Judged and condemned by that poor lover's pledge,

Lying there like a messenger of heaven,

Breathing of peace and love, mid deadly hate.

Glory! thou mirage on this desert life,

Charming the weary on to water springs

[Pg 18]

That shrivel up to barrenness ere reach'd!

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