Armies In The Fire
The
lamps
now
glitter
down
the
street;
Faintly
sound
the
falling
feet;
And
the
blue
even
slowly
falls
About
the
garden
trees
and
walls.
Now
in
the
falling
of
the
gloom
The
red
fire
paints
the
empty
room:
And
warmly
on
the
roof
it
looks,
And
flickers
on
the
back
of
books.
Armies
march
by
tower
and
spire
Of
cities
blazing,
in
the
fire;—
Till
as
I
gaze
with
staring
eyes,
The
armies
fall,
the
lustre
dies.
Then
once
again
the
glow
returns;
Again
the
phantom
city
burns;
And
down
the
red-hot
valley,
lo!
The
phantom
armies
marching
go!
Blinking
embers,
tell
me
true
Where
are
those
armies
marching
to,
And
what
the
burning
city
is
That
crumbles
in
your
furnaces!
