66 LINCOLN COLCORD
(On the open field lie many huddled shapes ;
The wounded are stirring feebly out there, like men
awaking from a violent dream ; They lift their heads, they stretch their arms, they
struggle to rise on their elbows ; They sit up, staring around — they crawl like snails
among the crops ; A screaming horse dashes athwart the line, dragging
his entrails on the ground.)
8.
Behold the ships at sea ;
A long and weary time they had been waiting, con- stantly on the alert, nerves strained to breaking ;
In smothering, foggy weather, in gloomy days, in pitch-black nights, in wild and desperate gales ;
Anxious for battle, longing to sight the enemy, every one on the lookout, chafing and growling ;
Anything, anything, boys, to end this tedious monotony !
(Maybe an unseen deliverer is at hand.)
The captain was walking the bridge that morning, the crew were at breakfast, the navigating officer was winding his chronometers ;
Suddenly, from forward, a frantic cry ! A man runs aft, pointing to windward ;
The captain whips out his glasses, scans the horizon ;
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