I, from a window where the Meuse is wide, br Looked eastward out to the September night; br The men that in the hopeless battle died br Rose, and deployed, and stationed for the fight; br A brumal army, vague and ordered large br For mile on mile by some pale general,- br I saw them lean by companies to the charge, br But no man living heard the bugle-call. br br And fading still, and pointing to their scars, br They fled in lessening clouds, where gray and high br Dawn lay along the heaven in misty bars; br But watching from that eastern casement, I br Saw the Republic splendid in the sky, br And round her terrible head the morning stars.