They are crowding round and closely peering
At the face of the foe who is past their fearing;
The men lift children up to see
The arms of the man who was good for three;
The women gaze and hold their breath,
For the man looks kingly even in death.
They have gone to their homes anear and far—
Their joys and griefs, their loves and hating:
Some to sunder the ties that are,
And some to cooing and wooing and mating.