Dirge for Two Veterans

 1
 THE last sunbeam 
Lightly falls from the finish’d Sabbath, 
On the pavement here—and there beyond, it is looking, 
 Down a new-made double grave. 

2
 Lo! the moon ascending!
Up from the east, the silvery round moon; 
Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly phantom moon; 
 Immense and silent moon. 

3
 I see a sad procession, 
And I hear the sound of coming full-key’d bugles;
All the channels of the city streets they’re flooding, 
 As with voices and with tears. 

4
 I hear the great drums pounding, 
And the small drums steady whirring; 
And every blow of the great convulsive drums,
 Strikes me through and through. 

5
 For the son is brought with the father; 
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell; 
Two veterans, son and father, dropt together, 
 And the double grave awaits them.

6
 Now nearer blow the bugles, 
And the drums strike more convulsive; 
And the day-light o’er the pavement quite has faded, 
 And the strong dead-march enwraps me. 

7
 In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin’d; 
(’Tis some mother’s large, transparent face, 
 In heaven brighter growing.) 

8
 O strong dead-march, you please me! 
O moon immense, with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial! 
 What I have I also give you. 

9
 The moon gives you light, 
And the bugles and the drums give you music; 
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
 My heart gives you love.

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