IN the dream of the Northern poets, The brave who in battle die Fight on in shadowy phalanx In the field of the upper sky; And as we read the sounding rhyme, The reverent fancy hears The ghostly ring of the viewless swords And the clash of the spectral spears. We think with imperious questionings Of the brothers whom we have lost, And we strive to track in death's mystery The flight of each valiant ghost. The Northern myth comes back to us, And we feel, through our sorrow's night, That those young souls are striving still Somewhere for the truth and light. It was not their time for rest and sleep; Their hearts beat high and strong; In their fresh veins the blood of youth Was singing its hot, sweet song. The open heaven bent over them, Mid flowers their lithe feet trod, Their lives lay vivid in light, and blest By the smiles of women and God. Again they come! Again I hear The tread of that goodly band; I know the flash of Ellsworth's eye And the grasp of his hard, warm hand; And Putnam, and Shaw, of the lion-heart, And an eye like a Boston girl's; And I see the light of heaven which lay On Ulric Dahlgren's curls. There is no power in the gloom of hell To quench those spirits' fire; There is no power in the bliss of heaven To bid them not aspire; But somewhere in the eternal plan That strength, that life survive, And like the files on Lookout's crest, Above death's clouds they strive. A chosen corps, they are marching on In a wider field than ours; Those bright battalions still fulfill The scheme of the heavenly powers; And high brave thoughts float down to us, The echoes of that far fight, Like the flash of a distant picket's gun Through the shades of the severing night. No fear for them! In our lower field Let us keep our arms unstained, That at last we be worthy to stand with them On the shining heights they've gained. We shall meet and greet in closing ranks In Time's declining sun, When the bugles of God shall sound recall And the battle of life be won. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPARROW HARK IN THE RAIN (ALEXANDER STEPHENS HEARS NEWS) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PUTTING IN THE SEED by ROBERT FROST FIRST FRUITS IN 1812 [AUGUST 19, 1812] by WALLACE RICE CORRYMEELA by NESTA HIGGINSON SKRINE ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY by WALT WHITMAN THE FAMINE YEAR by JANE FRANCESCA WILDE |