Upon a field of shrieking red
A mighty general stormed and fell.
They raised him from the common dead
And all the people mourned him well.
"Swiftly," they cried, "let honors come,
And Glory with her deathless bays;
For him let every muffled drum
And grieving bugle thrill with praise.
Has he not made the whole world fear
The very lifting of his sword--
Has he not slain his thousands here
To glorify the Law and Lord!
Then make his bed of sacred sod;
To greater deeds no man can win"...
_And each amused and ancient god
Began to grin._