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were left dead upon the soil their
feet had polluted, and now we
must give them graves in the very
fields they pillaged. Night has hung
its dark curtains around and
over the [arena?], so[?] lit
with [fire?] arms, and the flash
of the glittering [?] in the hands
of valliant men. The roar and rush
of armies has ceased. All is quiet
as the grave, only disturbed by the
[?] trains of ambulances and
the heart rendering groans of [the?]
thousand suffering commingling
their voices in piteous discord on
every [wind?]. The darkness of the
night intensified by the clouds
of smoke, now sitting down up-
on the earth, with the cries of