And now beneath the covert of the night
Advancing, guided by the voice of woe,
Where on the earth the wounded mourners lay,
With trembling steps and fearful whispering voice,
Each seeks, and calls him whom she came to seek:
And many a fugitive, whom force or fear
Had driven from the Field, steals softly back,
Anxious to know the fate of some lov'd friend.
Mutual fears appal the mingled group,
Starting alternate at the unknown tongue: