A Requiem

For Soldiers lost in Ocean Transports     When, after storms that woodlands rue,     To valleys comes atoning dawn,     The robins blithe their orchard-sports renew;     And meadow-larks, no more withdrawn     Caroling fly in the languid blue;     The while, from many a hid recess,     Alert to partake the blessedness,     The pouring mites their airy dance pursue.     So, after ocean's ghastly gales,     When laughing light of hoyden morning breaks,         Every finny hider wakes--     From vaults profound swims up with     glittering scales;     Through the delightsome sea he sails,     With shoals of shining tiny things     Frolic on every wave that flings     Against the prow its showery spray;     All creatures joying in the morn,     Save them forever from joyance torn,     Whose bark was lost where now the dolphins play;     Save them that by the fabled shore,     Down the pale stream are washed away,     Far to the reef of bones are borne;     And never revisits them the light,     Nor sight of long-sought land and pilot more;     Nor heed they now the lone bird's flight     Round the lone spar where mid-sea surges pour.