Hundreds of bodies, freshly smeared with blood, of men who two hours
previous had been filled with divers lofty or petty hopes and desires,
now lay, with stiffened limbs, in the dewy, flowery valley which
separated the bastion from the trench, and on the level floor of the
chapel for the dead in Sevastopol; hundreds of men crawled, twisted,
and groaned, with curses and prayers on their parched lips, some amid
the corpses in the flower-strewn vale, others on stretchers, on cots,
and on the blood-stained floor of the hospital.
And still, as on the days preceding, the dawn glowed, over Sapun
Mountain, the twinkling stars paled, the white mist spread abroad
from the dark sounding sea, the red glow illuminated the east, long
crimson cloudlets darted across the blue horizon; and still, as on days
preceding, the powerful, all-beautiful sun rose up, giving promise of
joy, love, and happiness to all who dwell in the world.