Three times the sun rose while the battle held, Three days of blinding-heat and fiery dust -- Three red eternities of breastwork shelled, Of charge, attack, repulse, and counterthrust. And in the soul of Meade, the soul of Lee, By every soldier's suffering torn and wrung -- What vain defeat, what frustrate victory, As to and fro the battle's fortune swung! For always on the leader's heart must fall The sharpest lash, the wounds that cannot heal; To them is given the wormwood and the gall Of hurling life against inhuman steel. And ever in the eyes of Meade and Lee There lay the shadow of that agony. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRAVEST BATTLE by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER MOUNT PIERUS by ANTIPATER OF SIDON MY WINTER ROSE by ALFRED AUSTIN A SONNET TO HEAVENLY BEAUTY by JOACHIM DU BELLAY MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN by ROBERT BURNS THE FUGITIVE; TARTAR SONG by ALEXANDER BOREJKO CHODZKO |