As Bronze may be much Beautified

As bronze may be much beautified

By lying in the dark damp soil,

So men who fade in dust of warfare fade

Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.

Like pearls which noble women wear

And, tarnishing, awhile confide

Unto the old salt sea to feed,

Many return more lustrous than they were.

But what of them buried profound,

Buried where we can no more find.

Who

Lie dark for ever under abysmal war?