THE softest whisperings of the scented South, And rust and roses in the cannon's mouth; And, where the thunders of the fight were born, The wind's sweet tenor in the standing corn; With song of larks, low-lingering in the loam, And blue skies bending over love and home. But still the thought: Somewhere, -- upon the hills, Or where the vales ring with the whip-poor-wills, Sad wistful eyes and broken hears that beat For the loved sound of unreturning feet, And, when the oaks their leafy banners wave, Dream of the battle and an unmarked grave! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEAVING THE HARBOR by LOUIS UNTERMEYER REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY BOOKS by WILLIAM COWPER THE BRITISH CHURCH by GEORGE HERBERT THERMOPYLAE by SIMONIDES OF CEOS PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 38 by EDWARD TAYLOR |