In Clouds Descending, in Midnight Sleep

IN CLOUDS DESCENDING, IN MIDNIGHT SLEEP.

1

IN clouds descending, in midnight sleep, of many a face of
anguish, Of the look at first of the mortally wounded—of that inde-
scribable look; Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide, I dream, I dream, I dream.

2

Of scenes of nature, the fields and the mountains; Of the skies, so beauteous after the storm—and at night the
moon so unearthly bright, Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches
and gather the heaps, I dream, I dream, I dream.

3

Long have they pass'd, long lapsed—faces and trenches and
fields; Long through the carnage I moved with a callous compos-
ure—or away from the fallen, Onward I sped at the time—But now of their forms at night, I dream, I dream, I dream.