Explore "Requiem" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Weep for the dead; weep for the swift slain dead, / November skies; / Too few the tears that day and night are shed / From women's eyes.
Blow o'er them lightly with a soft caress, / Wind of the sea; / If you are tender they may miss love less -- / Where'er they be.
Come, gentle moon, swing low your lantern light / On reddened fields, / And find the lonely harvest of the night / That battle yields.
Banish the darkness filled with quivering dread, / Lest they should know / Some last strange horror, -- even they -- the dead; -- / Sweet moon, swing low!
Fold them at dawn, dear Earth, within your arms / So safe and strong; / Hold them asleep till they forget alarms, / And woe and wrong.
Master of Kings! If peace be bought with pain, / These paid the price; / O show Thy tortured world that not in vain, / Is sacrifice!