| |
| ’MID flower beds I chanced to stand, | |
| And gazed upon a gorgeous land | |
| That blooming wide before me lay | |
| Beneath the harvest sun’s hot ray; | |
| And in the apple-tree’s fair shade | 5 |
| My host and I together stayed | |
| And listened to a nightingale, | |
| And peace was over hill and dale. | |
| There whizzed, the distant rails along, | |
| A train that brought a happy throng. | 10 |
| What magic! And besides it bore | |
| Of blessèd goods a heavy store. | |
| But once I saw the iron track | |
| Destroyed and torn for miles. Alack— | |
| And here where flowers now abound | 15 |
| Was then a barren, stirred-up ground. | |
| |
| A summer morn was glowing bright, | |
| Like this one: down from every height, | |
| With bag and knapsack all day long, | |
| From ambuscades there poured a throng | 20 |
| Prepared to storm, a dazzling sea, | |
| The army of the enemy. | |
| I stood as though of iron cast, | |
| Upon my sabre leaning, fast. | |
| With lips apart and open-eyed | 25 |
| Into the mouth of hell I spied. | |
| “Quick fire!” “Stand still!” Now they are there! | |
| High waves the flag through smoky air! | |
| And up and down go men in rows, | |
| And many sink in deadly throes. | 30 |
| Now someone stabs me as I fall, | |
| Stabs hard—I have no strength at all. | |
| Before, beneath me, round about, | |
| A frightful struggle, rage and rout. | |
| And o’er this tangle wild, in fear | 35 |
| I see a shying war horse rear. | |
| The hoof I see like lightning whir, | |
| The clotted scar from pricking spur, | |
| The girth, the spattered mud, the red | |
| Of nostrils swelling wide with dread. | 40 |
| Between us now with clanging sound | |
| The bombshell bursts its iron bound; | |
| A dragon rears, the earth is rent— | |
| Down falls the whole wide firmament! | |
| They wail and moan, and dust is spread | 45 |
| Upon the laurels and the dead. | |
| |
| ’Mid flower beds I chanced to stand | |
| And gazed upon a gorgeous land | |
| That far and wide before me lay | |
| Beneath the peace-fan’s lulling sway. | 50 |
| And in the apple-trees’ fair shade | |
| My host and I together stayed | |
| And hearkened to the nightingale; | |
| And roses bloomed on hill and dale. | |
| |
