THE RETURN

I heard the rumbling guns. I saw the smoke,

The unintelligible shock of hosts that still,

Far off, unseeing, strove and strove again:

And Beauty flying naked down the hill.

From morn to eve: and then stern night cried Peace!

And shut the strife in darkness; all was still.

Then slowly crept a triumph on the dark —

And I heard Beauty singing up the hill.