In streets, in fields, in ships are heard alone.
Unknelled, unshrived, in yawning trenches deep,
The bursting corses fall a livid heap;
Death, at the growing carnage, laughs elate,
While round his throne Sesostres shrouded wait.
Athwart Atlantic’s troubled waters fly
The arrowy fates, and fill the western sky;
Fair Erie’s queen is stricken with distress—
Named for the herd that graze the wilderness.
And all the nascent states and cities young,