No words to explain how baleful you are
And you even look so dire and bizarre.
In your face, I've never seen a rapture
I really thought you have a peculiar character. ...
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.