A Dirge For McPherson

Killed in front of Atlanta (July, 1864)

Arms reversed and banners craped --

Muffled drums;

Snowy horses sable-draped --

McPherson comes.

But, tell us, shall we know him more,

Lost-Mountain and lone Kenesaw?

Brave the sword upon the pall --

A gleam in gloom;

So a bright name lighteth all

McPherson's doom.

Bear him through the chapel-door --

Let priest in stole

Pace before the warrior

Who led. Bell --toll!

Lay him down within the nave,

The lesson read --

Man is noble, man is brave,

But man's -- a weed.

Take him up again and wend

Graveward, nor weep:

There's a trumpet that shall rend

This Soldier's sleep.

Pass the ropes the coffin round,

And let descend;

Prayer and volley -- let it sound

McPherson's end.

True fame is his, for life is o'er --

Sarpedon of the mighty war.