When I was small, a Woman died

596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory To look at her—How slowly The Seasons must have turned Till Bullets clipt an Angle And He passed quickly round— If pride shall be in Paradise— Ourself cannot decide— Of their imperial Conduct— No person testified— But, proud in Apparition— That Woman and her Boy Pass back and forth, before my Brain As even in the sky— I'm confident that Bravoes— Perpetual break abroad For Braveries, remote as this In Scarlet Maryland—