S. Weir Mitchell
Burton E. Stevenson, Poems of American History
(Boston & New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1908), p. 526-527.
Sunday in Old England: Across the barren lowlands,
In gray churches everywhere Where mean find scanty food
The clam of low responses The north wind brings its vigor
The sacred hush of prayer. To homestead plain and rude.
Sunday in Old England: Ho, land of pine and granite!
And summer winds that went Ho, hardy northern breeze!
O’er the pleasant fields of Sussex, Well have you trained the manhood
The gardens lands of kent. That shook the Channel seas,
Stole into dim church windows When o’er those storied waters
And passed the oaken door, The iron war-bolts flew,
An fluttered open prayer-books And through Old England’s churches
With cannon’s awful roar. The summer breezes blew;
Sunday in New England: While in our other England
Upon a mountain gray Stirred one gaunt rocky steep,
The wind-bent pines are swaying When rode her sons as victors,
Like giants at their play; Lords of the lonely deep.
London, July 20, 1864.
It was reported that the cannon fire from the battle could be
heard across the Channel along the coast of England.
Created and maintained by Lisle Brown, Curator
© 2007, Special Collections, Marshall University