As hallow’d unto glory’s tomb?
Silence is on the battle-ground,
The heavens are loaded with a breathless gloom.
And stars are watching on their height,
But dimly seen through mist and cloud;
And still and solemn is the light
Which folds the plain, as with a glimmering shroud.
And thou, pale Night-queen! here thy beams
Are not as those the shepherd loves,
Nor look they down on shining streams,