Shiloh: A Requiem

ShilohA Requiem

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,    The swallows fly low Over the field in clouded days,    The forest-field of Shiloh--- Over the field where April rain Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain Through the pause of night That followed the Sunday fight    Around the church of Shiloh--- The church so lone, the log-built one, That echoed to many a parting groan       And natural prayer    Of dying foemen mingled there--- Foemen at morn, but friends at eve---    Fame or country least their care: (What like a bullet can undeceive!)    But now they lie low, While over them the swallows skim,    And all is hushed at Shiloh.

Herman Melville - 1862

With compliments,

Keith