Sealing the brow of the land for the Place of the Battle of Battles.
II
Twice had the sun gone down on the conflict as yet undetermined.
Two fierce days were done, and the marred earth cumbered with horror,
Horror of soulless pain of the beasts that perish unknowing,
Horror of human ruin, the shattered sheaths of the spirit,
Horror men pray to forget, and the tongue refuses to tell it.
Two proud days were done, that shall shine with the splendors of valor
Out of the night of the past, and live with the life of the nation:
Splendors that crowd like stars—how the names press faster and faster!