When I was small, a Woman died —
Today — her Only Boy
Went up from the Potomac —
His face all Victory
To look at her — How slowly
The Seasons must have turned
Till Bullets clipt an Angle
And He passed quickly round —
If pride shall be in Paradise —
Ourself cannot decide —
Of their imperial Conduct —
No person testified —
But, proud in Apparition —
That Woman and her Boy
Pass back and forth, before my Brain
As even in the sky —
I'm confident that Bravoes —
Perpetual break abroad
For Braveries, remote as this
In Scarlet Maryland —
