Katharine Lee Bates - Above the Battle lyrics

Honor and pity for the smitten field, The valorous ranks mown down like precious corn, Whose want must famish love morn after morn, Till d**h, the good physician, shall have healed The craving and the tearspent eyelids sealed. Proud be the homes that for each cannon-torn, Encrimsoned rampart have been left forlorn; Holy the knells o'er fallen patriots pealed. But they, above the battle, throng a space Of starry silences and silver rest. Commingled ghosts, they press like brothers through White, dove-winged portals, where one Father's face Atones their pa**ion, as the ethereal blue Serenes the fiery glows of east and west.