the end, nor really aught we know,
But know the work, the need goes on and shall go on,
     the death- envelop'd march of peace as well as
     war goes on,)

For great campaigns of peace the same the wiry
     threads to weave,
We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.

1865 1881

SPAIN, 1873-74

OUT of the murk of heaviest clouds,
Out of the feudal wrecks and heap'd-up skeletons
     of kings,
Out of that old entire European debris, the shatter'd
     mummeries,
Ruin'd cathedrals, crumble of palaces, tombs of
     priests,
Lo, Freedom's features fresh undimm'd look forth
     — the same immortal face looks forth;
(A glimpse as of thy Mother's face Columbia,
A flash significant as of a sword,
Beaming towards thee.)

Nor think we forget thee maternal;
Lag'd'st thou so long? shall the clouds close
     again upon thee?
Ah, but thou hast thyself now appear'd to us
     — we know thee,
Thou hast given us a sure proof, the glimpse of
     thyself,
Thou waitest there as everywhere thy time.

1873 1881

BY BROAD POTOMAC'S SHORE

BY broad Potomac's shore, again old tongue,
(Still uttering, still ejaculating, canst never cease
     this babble?)
Again old heart so gay, again to you, your sense,
     the full flush spring returning,
Again the freshness and the odors, again Virginia's
     summer sky, pellucid blue and silver,
Again the forenoon purple of the hills,
Again the deathless grass, so noiseless soft and
     green,
Again the blood-red roses blooming.

Perfume this book of mine O blood-red roses!
Lave subtly with your waters every line Potomac!
Give me of you O spring, before I close, to put
     between its pages!
O forenoon purple of the hills, before I close,
     of you!
O deathless grass, of you!

1876 1881

FROM FAR DAKOTA'S CAÑONS

FROM far Dakota's cañons,
Lands of the wild ravine, the dusky Sioux, the
     lonesome stretch, the silence,
Haply to-day a mournful wail, haply a trumpet-
    note for heroes.

The battle-bulletin,
The Indian ambuscade, the craft, the fatal
     environment,
The cavalry companies fighting to the last in
     sternest heroism,
In the midst of their little circle, with their
     slaughter'd horses for breastworks,
The fall of Custer and all his officers and men.

Continues yet the old, old legend of our race,
The loftiest of life upheld by death,
The ancient banner perfectly maintain'd,
O lesson opportune, O how I welcome thee!

As sitting in dark days,
Lone, sulky, through the time's thick murk
     looking in vain for light, for hope,
From unsuspected parts a fierce and momentary
     proof,
(The sun there at the centre though conceal'd,
Electric life forever at the centre,)
Breaks forth a lightning flash.

Thou of the tawny flowing hair in battle,
I erewhile saw, with erect head, pressing ever
     in front, bearing a birth sword in thy hand,
Now ending well in death the splendid fever of
     thy deeds,
(I bring no dirge for it or thee, I bring a glad
     triumphal sonnet,)
Desperate and glorious, aye in defeat most
     desperate, most glorious,
After thy many battles in which never yielding
     up a gun or a color,

Leaving behind thee a memory sweet to soldiers,
Thou yieldest up thyself.

1876 1881