When I was small, a woman died.
\nTo-day her only boy
\nWent up from the Potomac,
\nHis face all victory,<\/p>\n
To look at her; how slowly
\nThe seasons must have turned
\nTill bullets clipt an angle,
\nAnd he passed quickly round!<\/p>\n
If pride shall be in Paradise
\nI never can decide;
\nOf their imperial conduct,
\nNo person testified.<\/p>\n
But proud in apparition,
\nThat woman and her boy
\nPass back and forth before my brain,
\nAs ever in the sky.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"