midnight
Last noon beheld them full of lusty life , Last eve in Beauty 's circle proudly gay , The midnight brought the signal sound of strife , The morn the marshalling in arms -- the day Battle 's magnificently stern array ! The thunder clouds close o'er it , which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay , Which her own clay shall cover , heaped and pent , Rider and horse : -- friend , foe , -- in one red burial blent . Their praise is hymn 'd by loftier harps than mine : Yet one would I select from that proud throng . -- to thee , to thousands , of whom each And one as all a ghastly gap did make In his own kind and kindred , whom to teach Forgetfuluess were mercy for their sake ; The Archangel 's trump , not glory 's , must awake Those whom they thirst for .