Black months of war, hard-featured, defeated months Between Fair Oaks and Gettysburg, What is your tale for this army? What do the men, So differently gathered for your word to devour, Say to your ears, deaf with cannon? What do they bring In powder-pocked hands to the heart of the burst shell? Let us read old letters awhile, Let us try to hear The thin, forgotten voices of men forgotten Crying out of torn scraps of paper, notes scribbled and smudged On aces, on envelope-backs, on gilt-edged cards stolen out of a dead man’s haversack.