The morn
Came stealing softly o'er the somber hills;
Dark clouds of smoke hung hovering o'er the field.
Blood-red as risen from a sea of blood,
The tardy sun as if in dread arose,
And hid his face in the uprising smoke.
As when the pale moon, envious of the glow
And gleam and glory of the god of day,
Creeps in by stealth between the earth and him,
Eclipsing all his glory, and the green
Of hills and dales is changed to yellowish dun,
So fell the strange and lurid light of morn.
And as I gazed I heard the hunger-cries
Of vultures circling on their dusky wings
Above the smoke-hid valley; then they plunged
To gorge themselves upon the slaughter-heaps,
As at the Buddhist temples in Siam
Whereto the hideous vultures flock to feast
With famished dogs upon the pauper dead.
"The day wore on. Two mighty armies stood
Defiant--watching--dreading to assault;
Each hoping that the other would assault
And madly dash against its glittering steel.
As in the jungles of the Chambeze--
Glaring defiance with their fiery eyes--
Two tawny lions--rival monarchs--meet
And fright the forest with their horrid roar;
But ere they close in bloody combat crouch
And wait and watch for vantage in attack;
So on their bannered hills the opposing hosts,
Eager to grapple in the tug of death,
Waited and watched for vantage in the fight.
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