Among the barrows of the sunken plain,
Where sleep the soldiers of another day,
On misty meadow and on upland gray,
On many eyes that close but once again,
The peaceful earth her benediction throws
In waves of healing music from the streams,
That through the willows softly comes and goes;
And now the face of all the country seems
A mirror consecrated to an army's dreams.
From far away is borne a woman's pray'r
To Ares, restless in his iron crown:
"Sleep, Ares, sleep! For, once the dice are thrown,
Empires to thee are leaves upon the air!
Ere all the homes go smoking to the skies,
And men are swept upon the battle-blast,
Ere all the tears are wept from women's eyes,
O Queen of Love, hold now thy Lover fast,
And let him taste eternal anodyne at last!"
But with the dawn there comes a soldier's song:
"When all the guns have fired their last salute,
And all the tongues of all the world are mute,
And life is dearer than to right a wrong,
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