Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/27



O clammy cold November,

And the winter white and dead,

And the terror dumb with stupor,

And the sky a sheet of lead;

And events that came resounding

With the cry that All was lost,

Like the thunder-cracks of massy ice

In intensity of frost—

Bursting one upon another

Through the horror of the calm.

The paralysis of arm

In the anguish of the heart;

And the hollowness and dearth.

The appealings of the mother

To brother and to brother

Not in hatred so to part—

And the fissure in the hearth