Shiloh : a requiem

 POEM by Herman Melville

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 on 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.

from Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War (1866)

in Penguin Books Selected Poems: Herman Melville [2006]