Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/74

66 And Farragut sailed up to the town

And anchored—sheathed the blade.

The moody broadsides, brooding deep,

Hold the lewd mob at bay,

While o'er the armed decks' solemn aisles

The meek church-pennons play;

By shotted guns the sailors stand,

With foreheads bound or bare;

The captains and the conquering crews

Humble their pride in prayer.

They pray; and after victory, prayer

Is meet for men who mourn their slain;

The living shall unmoor and sail,

But Death's dark anchor secret deeps detain.

Yet glory slants her shaft of rays

Far through the undisturbed abyss;

There must be other, nobler worlds for them

Who nobly yield their lives in this.