Wordless the night-wind, funereal plumes of the tree-tops swaying-- Writhing and nodding anon at the beck of the unseen breeze! Yet its voice ever a murmur resumes, as of multitudes praying: Liturgies lost in a moan like the mourning of far-away seas. May then those spirits, set free, a celestial council obeying, Move in this rustling whisper here thro' the dark, shaken trees?-- Souls that are voices alone to us, now, yet linger, returning Thrilled with a sweet reconcilement and fervid with speechless desire? Sundered in warfare, immortal they meet now with wonder and yearning, Dwelling together united, a rapt, invisible choir: Hearken! They wail for the living, whose passion of battle, yet burning, Sears and enfolds them in coils, and consumes, like a serpent of fire! VI Men of New Hampshire, Pennsylvanians, Maine men, firm as the rock's rough ledge! Swift Mississippians, lithe Carolinians Bursting over the battle's edge! Bold Indiana men; gallant Virginians; Jersey and Georgia legions clashing;-- Pick of Connecticut; quick Vermonters; Louisianians, madly dashing;-- And, swooping still to fresh encounters, New-York myriads, whirlwind-led!-- All your furious forces, meeting, Torn, entangled, and shifting place, Blend like wings of eagles beating Airy abysses, in angry embrace. Here in the midmost struggle combining-- Flags immingled and weapons crossed-- Still in union your States troop shining: Never a star from the lustre is lost! VII