ON A BATTLE FIELD
Once o'er this hill whereon we stand,
Just you and I, hand clasp'd in hand
Amid the silence, and the space,
A mighty battle rent the air,
With dying curse and choking prayer;
'Mid shot and shell death stalked apace.
Is it conceivable to you—
So much at peace—because we two
Are close together, or to me?
The silent beauty of the noon
Seems like a Heaven-granted boon,
Aglow with tender ecstasy.
A little mist of hazy blue
Is slowly hiding from our view
The city's domes and slender spires,
As thro' a bridal veil the sun
Subdued and shy lights one by one
The virgin clouds with blushing fires.
The wind has fallen; very low
We hear his wings brush past, and know
He creeps away to dream and rest;
How sweet to be alone, to feel
You breathe one longing sigh, and steal
A little closer to my breast.
Is anything worth while but this?
We may not perish for a kiss,
Yet thus it were not hard to die!
War strews the earth with countless dead,
And after all is done and said,
The end is love, and you and I!