A different type of war poem...and a very effective one, I think.
Shiloh
A Requiem (April 1862)
Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh --
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched one stretched in pain
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh --
The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there --
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve --
Fame or country least their care:
(What like a bullet can undeceive!)
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed at Shiloh.
Sasha, do you know if Melville visited there or knew about such a scene in a church there? It's a haunting place (SE Tennessee, an hour or so south of Jackson), but in our tour there I didn't get a sense of too much "mingling" going on. I regret I don't remember any of the displays referencing this poem, but they surely might have!
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