Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
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Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
 
At Fredericksburg
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836–1907)
 
THE INCREASING moonlight drifts across my bed,
And on the churchyard by the road, I know
It falls as white and noiselessly as snow….
’T was such a night two weary summers fled;
The stars, as now, were waning overhead.        5
Listen! again the shrill-lipped bugles blow
Where the swift currents of the river flow
Past Fredericksburg: far off the heavens are red
With sudden conflagration: on yon height,
Linstock in hand, the gunners hold their breath:        10
A signal-rocket pierces the dense night,
Flings its spent stars upon the town beneath:
Hark!—the artillery massing on the right,
Hark!—the black squadrons wheeling down to Death!
 
 
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