The other wears the solemn hue of Night
Drawn darker in the blazonry of pain,
Blotting the gaslight’s mimic day, he slings
A dangerous weapon, too, a broken chain.
When the Civil War broke out, she poured forth the feelings that so deeply moved her in a number of poems. “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” is the best known of these, as it deserves to be. The others, however, while varying as to merit, show the same patriotism, indignation against wrong, and elevation of spirit. The woman’s tenderness of heart breathes through them, too, as in the story of the dying soldier:
LEFT BEHIND
The foe is retreating, the field is clear;
My thoughts fly like lightning, my steps stay here;
I’m bleeding to faintness, no help is near:
What, ho! comrades; what, ho!