Death of General Grant

(Sounding, appealing to the sky’s deaf ear⁠—but now, rapport for once, A phantom in the night thy confidant for once,) The first and last confession of the globe, Outsurging, muttering from thy soul’s abysms, The tale of cosmic elemental passion, Thou tellest to a kindred soul.

As one by one withdraw the lofty actors, From that great play on history’s stage eterne, That lurid, partial act of war and peace⁠—of old and new contending, Fought out through wrath, fears, dark dismays, and many a long suspense; All past⁠—and since, in countless graves receding, mellowing, Victor’s and vanquish’d⁠—Lincoln’s and Lee’s⁠—now thou with them, Man of the mighty days⁠—and equal to the days! Thou from the prairies!⁠—tangled and many-vein’d and hard has been thy part, To admiration has it been enacted!