John Greenleaf Whittier

“ Look abroad, and tell us, sister, whither rolls the storm we hear.
Down the hills of Angostura still the storm of battle rolls;
Blood is flowing, men are dying; God have mercy on their souls!
"Who is losing? who is winning?" Over hill and over plain,
I see but smoke of cannon clouding through the mountain rain." ”

“ Lo! the wind the smoke is lifting. Blessed Mother, save my brain!
I can see the wounded crawling slowly out from heaps of slain.
Now they stagger, blind and bleeding; now they fall, and strive to rise ”