Reconciliation

Word over all, beautiful as the sky!

Beautiful that war, and all its deeds of carnage,/

must in time be utterly lost;

That the hands of the sisters Death and Night, /

incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world:

...For my enemy is dead -- a man divine as myself is dead;

I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin -- I draw near;

I bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.