At last we knew. And when we learned How he had fallen, Margaret Wept; and, albeit my eyes were wet, Within my soul I half discerned A joy that mingled with regret, A grief that to relief was turned. As time went on and confidence Drew us more strongly each to each, Why did no intimation reach Its warning hand into the dense Soul-silence, and confuse the speech Of love's unbroken eloquence! But, no! no hint to turn the poise, Or check the impulse of our youth; To chill it with the living truth As with the awe of God's own voice; No hint, to make our hope uncouth; No word, to warn us from our choice. To me a wall seemed overthrown That social law had raised between; And o'er its ruin, broad and green A path went, I possessed alone; The sky above seemed all serene; The land around seemed all my own. What shall I say of Margaret To justify her part in this? That her young heart was never his? But had been mine since first we met? So would you say!--Enough it is That when he left she loved him yet. So passed the Spring, and Summer sped; And early Autumn brought the day When she her hand in mine should lay, And I should take her hand and wed. And still no hint that might gainsay, No warning word of quick or dead. The day arrived; and, with it born, A battle, sullying the East With boom of cannon, that increased, And throb of musket and of horn: Until at last, towards dusk, it ceased; And men with faces wild and worn, In fierce retreat swept past; now groups; Now one by one; now sternly white, Or blood-stained; now with looks whose fright Said all was lost. Then sullen troops That, beaten, still kept up the fight. Then came the victors; shadowy loops Of men and horse, that left a crowd Of officers in hall and porch.... While through the land around the torch Circled, and many a fiery cloud Marked out the army's iron march In furrows red, that pillage plowed, Here we were wedded.--Ask the years How such could be, while over us A sword of wrath swung ominous, And on our cheeks its breath was fierce! All I remember is--'twas thus, And Margaret's eyes were wet with tears. No other cause my memory sees Save this, _that night was set_; and when I found my home filled with armed men With whom were all my sympathies Of Union--why postpone it then? So argued conscience into peace. And then it was, when night had passed There came to me an orderly With word of a confederate spy Late taken, who, with head downcast, Had asked one favor, this: "That I Would see him ere he breathed his last." I stand alone here. Heavily My thoughts go back. Had I not gone, The dead had still been dead!--for none Had yet believed his story--he, My dead-deemed brother, Hamilton, Who in the spy confronted me.