Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/134

16 The combat o'er, the death-hug done, In summer blaze or winter's snows,
 * They keep the truce at Arlington.

And, almost lost in myriad graves
 * Of those who gained the unequal fight,

Are mounds that hide Confederate braves, Who reck not how the north wind raves,
 * In dazzling day or dimmest night.

O'er those who lost and those who won
 * Death holds no parley which was right—

Jehovah judges Arlington.

The dead had rest; the dove of peace,
 * Brooded o'er both with equal wings;

To both had come that great surcease, The last omnipotent release
 * From all the world's delirious stings,

To bugle deaf and signal gun
 * They slept, like heroes of old Greece,

Beneath the glebe at Arlington.

And in the Spring's benignant reign,
 * The sweet May woke her harp of pines?

Teaching her choir a thrilling strain Of jubilee to land and main.
 * She danced in emerald down the lines,

Denying largess bright to none.
 * She saw no difference in the signs

That told who slept at Arlington.

She gave her grasses and her showers
 * To all alike who dreamed in dust;

Her song-birds wove their dainty bowers Amid the jasmine buds and flowers,
 * And piped with an impartial trust.

Waifs of the air and liberal sun!
 * Their guileless glees were kind and just

To friend and foe at Arlington.

And 'mid the generous spring there came
 * Some women of the land who strove

To make this funeral field of fame