After The Battle

WE crown’d the hard-won heights at length,  
 Baptiz’d in flame and fire;  
We saw the foeman’s sullen strength,  
 That grimly made retire—  
 
Saw close at hand, then saw more far  
 Beneath the battle-smoke  
The ridges of his shatter’d war,  
 That broke and ever broke.  
 
But one, an English household’s pride,  
 Dear many ways to me,
Who climb’d that death-path by my side,  
 I sought, but could not see.  
 
Last seen, what time our foremost rank  
 That iron tempest tore;  
He touch’d, he scal’d the rampart bank—
 Seen then, and seen no more.  
 
One friend to aid, I measur’d back  
 With him that pathway dread;  
No fear to wander from our track—  
 Its waymarks English dead.
 
Light thicken’d: but our search was crown’d,  
 As we too well divin’d;  
And after briefest quest we found  
 What we most fear’d to find.  
 
His bosom with one death-shot riven,
 The warrior-boy lay low;  
His face was turn’d unto the heaven,  
 His feet unto the foe.  
 
As he had fallen upon the plain,  
 Inviolate he lay;
No ruffian spoiler’s hand profane  
 Had touch’d that noble clay.  
 
And precious things he still retain’d,  
 Which, by one distant hearth,  
Lov’d tokens of the lov’d, had gain’d
 A worth beyond all worth.  
 
I treasur’d these for them who yet  
 Knew not their mighty wo;  
I softly seal’d his eyes, and set  
 One kiss upon his brow.
 
A decent grave we scoop’d him, where  
 Less thickly lay the dead,  
And decently compos’d him there  
 Within that narrow bed.  
 
O theme for manhood’s bitter tears:
 The beauty and the bloom  
Of less than twenty summer years  
 Shut in that darksome tomb!  
 
Of soldier-sire the soldier-son;  
 Life’s honor’d eventide
One lives to close in England, one  
 In maiden battle died:  
 
And they, that should have been the mourn’d,  
 The mourners’ parts obtain:  
Such thoughts were ours, as we return’d
 To earth its earth again.  
 
Brief words we read of faith and prayer  
 Beside that hasty grave;  
Then turn’d away, and left him there,  
 The gentle and the brave:
 
I calling back with thankful heart,  
 With thoughts to peace allied,  
Hours when we two had knelt apart  
 Upon the lone hillside;  
 
And, comforted, I prais’d the grace
 Which him had led to be  
An early seeker of that Face  
 Which he should early see.