Explore "A Dirge for Mcpherson, Killed in Front of Atlanta. (July, 1864.)" by Herman Melville on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Arms reversed and banners craped -- / Muffled drums; / Snowy horses sable-draped -- / McPherson comes.
_But, tell us, shall we know him more, / Lost-Mountain and lone Kenesaw? _
Brave the sword upon the pall -- / A gleam in gloom; / So a bright name lighteth all / McPherson's doom.
Bear him through the chapel-door -- / Let priest in stole / Pace before the warrior / Who led. Bell -- toll!
Lay him down within the nave, / The Lesson read -- / Man is noble, man is brave, / But man's -- a weed.
Take him up again and wend / Graveward, nor weep: / There's a trumpet that shall rend / This Soldier's sleep.
Pass the ropes the coffin round, / And let descend; / Prayer and volley -- let it sound / McPherson's end.
_True fame is his, for life is o'er -- / Sarpedon of the mighty war._