The Night March

A poem by Herman Melville

With banners furled and clarions mute,
An army passes in the night;
And beaming spears and helms salute
The dark with bright.

In silence deep the legions stream,
With open ranks, in order true;
Over boundless plains they stream and gleam--
No chief in view!

Afar, in twinkling distance lost,
(So legends tell) he lonely wends
And back through all that shining host
His mandate sends.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Night March' by Herman Melville

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy