I heard the rumbling guns. I saw the smoke.
                                The unintelligible shock of hosts that still,
                           Far off, unseeing, strove and strove again;
                                And Beauty flying naked down the hill

                           From morn to eve,: and the stern night cried Peace!
                                And shut the strife in darkness:  all was still,
                           Then slowly crept a triumph on the dark --
                                And I heard Beauty singing up the hill.

                                                                           By:    John Freeman