Of red and white was sullied with the dark
And purple stain of war:
When angry guns, like famished beasts of prey,
Were howling o’er their gory feast of lives,
And sending dismal echoes far away
To mothers, maids, and wives:—
The mother, kneeling in the empty night,
With pleading hands uplifted for the son
Who, even as she prayed, had fought the fight—
The victory had won: