Garden-glimpses fair, with the faint-blue hills for a background,
Over the whitewashed fences the rosy hollyhocks leaning;
Fate-shadowed, sleeping town, in its listless grasp as it slumbered
Holding the reins of power, the gathered reins of the roadways
Stretched to the north and south, to the northwest and northeast and southeast,
Roadways half a score, in the grasp of the fate-shadowed sleeper,—
Reins of power indeed, should a strong hand suddenly seize them!
What strong hand should seize? Swift-reaching, and sinewed with iron,
Masterful hand of Lee, great Captain, intrepid invader?
Far-away cities feared. Or, haply, hand new to the wielding