Reconciliation

RECONCILIATION.

WORD over all, beautiful as the sky! Beautiful that war, and all its deeds of carnage, must in
time be utterly lost; That the hands of the sisters Death and Night, incessantly
softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world: …For my enemy is dead—a man divine as myself is dead; I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin—I
draw near; I bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face
in the coffin.