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Tears may be ours, but proud, for those who win
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
O KEEPER of the sacred Key,
Whose eye is the blue canopy,
the end will be.
"Lo, through the wintry atmosphere, On the white bosom of the sphere,
A cluster of five lakes appear; And all the land looks like a couch, or warrior's
shield, or sheeted bier,
“And on that vast and hollow field,
A mighty figure is revealed-
the hollow of a shield.
“ The winds have tied the drifted snow Around the face and chin ; and lo,
The sceptred giants come and go, And shake their shadowy crowns and say: 'We
always feared it would be so !' “ She came of an heroic race: A giant's strength, a maiden's grace,
Like two in one seem to embrace, And match, and blend, and thorough-blend, in her
colossal form and face.
"Where can her dazzling falchion be? One hand is fallen in the sea ;
The Gulf Stream drifts it far and free; And in that hand her shining brand gleams from
the depths resplendently. “And by the other, in its rest, The starry banner of the West
Is clasped forever to her breast; And of her silver helmet, lo! a soaring eagle is the
" And on her brow a softened light, As of a star concealed from sight
By some thin veil of fleecy white, Or of the rising moon behind the rainy vapors of the
“ The sisterhood that was so sweet, The starry system sphered complete, Which the mazed Orient used to greet,
The four-and-thirty fallen stars glimmer and glitter
at her feet. “And over her-and over all, For panoply and coronal
The mighty Immemorial, And everlasting canopy, and starry arch, and shield of all.
II. " Three cold bright moons have marched and
wheeled, And the white cerement that revealed
A figure stretched upon a shield, Is turned to verdure; and the land is now one
mighty battle-field. “And lo! the children which she bred, And more than all else cherished,
To make them true in heart and head, Stand face to face, as mortal foes, with their swords
crossed above the dead. “Each hath a mighty stroke and stride : One true, the more that he is tried ;
The other dark and evil-eyed; And by the hand of one of them his own dear
mother surely died ! “A stealthy step, a gleam of hell, -It is the simple truth to tell:
The son stabbed, and the mother fell ; And so she lies, all mute and pale, and pure and
irreproachable ! · And then the battle-trumpet blew; And the true brother sprang and drew
His blade to smite the traitor through; And so they clashed above the bier, and the night
sweated bloody dew.
“ And all their children, far and wide, That are so greatly multiplied,
Rise up in frenzy and divide; And choosing each whom he will serve, unsheathe
the sword and take their side. “ And in the low sun's bloodshot rays, Portentous of the coming days,
The two great oceans blush and blaze, With the emergent continent between them, wrapt
in crimson haze. “Now whichsoever stand or fall, As God is great, and man is small,
The truth shall triumph over all : Forever and forevermore, the truth shall triumph over all!
III. “I see the champion sword-strokes flash I see them fall and hear them clash;
I hear the murderous engines crash; I see a brother stoop to loose a foeman-brother's
bloody sash. “I see the torn and mangled corse, The dead and dying heaped in scores,
The headless rider by his horse, The wounded captive bayoneted through and
through without remorse. “I hear the dying sufferer cry, With his crushed face turned to the sky;
I see him crawl in agony To the foul pool, and bow his head into the bloody
slime, and die. “I see the assassin crouch and fire; I see his victim fall-expire; I see the murderer creeping nigher
To strip the dead. He turns the head-the face !
The son beholds his sire ! “ I hear the curses and the thanks ; I see the mad charge on the flanks, The rents, the gaps, the broken ranks, The vanquished squadrons driven headlong down
the river's bridgeless banks. " I see the death-gripe on the plain, The grappling monsters on the main,
The tens of thousands that are slain, And all the speechless suffering and agony of heart
and brain, “I see the dark and bloody spots, The crowded rooms and crowded cots,
The bleaching bones, the battle blots, And writ on many a nameless grave, a legend of
forget-me-nots. “I see the gorgéd prison-den, The dead-line and the pent-up pen, The thousands quartered in the fen, The living deaths of skin and bone that were the
goodly shapes of men. “And still the bloody dew must fall! And His great darkness with the pall
Of His dread Judgment cover all, Till the dead nation rise transformed by truth to
triumph over all ! “ And last—and last I see--the deed.” Thus saith the Keeper of the key, And the Great Seal of Destiny,
Whose eye is the blue canopy, And leaves the pall of His great darkness over all the land and sea.