"That night a multitude of friends and foes
Slept soundly--but they slept to wake no more.
But few indeed among the living slept;
We lay upon our arms and courted sleep
With open eyes and ears: the fears and hopes
That centered in the half-fought battle held
The balm of slumber from our weary limbs.
Anon the rattle of the random fire
Broke on our drowsy ears and startled us,
As one is startled by some horrid dream;
Whereat old veterans muttered in their sleep.
"Midnight had passed, and I lay wakeful still,
When Paul arose and sat upon the sward.
He said: 'I cannot sleep; unbidden thoughts
That will not down crowd on my restless brain.
Captain, I know not how, but still I know
That I shall see but one more sunrise. Morn
Will bring the clash of arms--to-morrow's sun
Will look upon unnumbered ghastly heaps
And gory ranks of dead and dying men,
And ere it sink beyond the western hills
Up from this field will roll a mighty shout
Victorious, echoed over all the land,
Proclaiming joy to freemen everywhere.
And I shall fall. I cannot tell you how
I know it--but I feel it in my soul.
I pray that death may spare me till I hear
Our shout of _"Victory!"_ rolling o'er these hills:
Then will I lay me down and die in peace.
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