Last noon beheld them full of lusty life;—

Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay;

The Midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,

The Morn the marshalling in arms,—the Day

Battle's magnificently-stern array!

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent

The earth is covered thick with other clay

Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,

Rider and horse,—friend,—foe,—in one red burial blent!