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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Angels of Buena Vista</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Speak and tell us, our Ximena, looking northward far away, <br>O'er the camp of the invaders, o'er the Mexican array,<br>Who is losing? who is winning? are they far or come they near?<br>Look abroad, and tell us, sister, whither rolls the storm we hear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Down the hills of Angostura still the storm of battle rolls;<br>Blood is flowing, men are dying; God have mercy on their souls!<br>'Who is losing? who is winning?' Over hill and over plain,<br>I see but smoke of cannon clouding through the mountain rain.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Holy Mother! keep our brothers! Look, Ximena, look once more.<br>'Still I see the fearful whirlwind rolling darkly as before,<br>Bearing on, in strange confusion, friend and foeman, foot and horse,<br>Like some wild and troubled torrent sweeping down its mountain course.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Look forth once more, Ximena! 'Ah! the smoke has rolled away; <br>And I see the Northern rifles gleaming down the ranks of gray.<br>Hark! that sudden blast of bugles! there the troop of Minon wheels;<br>There the Northern horses thunder, with the cannon at their heels.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Jesu, pity I how it thickens I now retreat and now advance!<br>Bight against the blazing cannon shivers Puebla's charging lance!<br>Down they go, the brave young riders; horse and foot together fall;<br>Like a ploughshare in the fallow, through them ploughs the Northern ball.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nearer came the storm and nearer, rolling fast and frightful on!<br>Speak, Ximena, speak and tell us, who has lost, and who has won?<br>Alas! alas! I know not; friend and foe together fall,<br>O'er the dying rush the living: pray, my sisters, for them all!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Lo! the wind the smoke is lifting. Blessed Mother, save my brain!<br>I can see the wounded crawling slowly out from heaps of slain.<br>Now they stagger, blind and bleeding; now they fall, and strive to rise;<br>Hasten, sisters, haste and save them, lest they die before our eyes!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'O my hearts love! O my dear one! lay thy poor head on my knee;<br>Dost thou know the lips that kiss thee? Canst thou hear me? canst thou see?<br>O my husband, brave and gentle! O my Bernal, look once more<br>On the blessed cross before thee! Mercy! all is o'er!'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Dry thy tears, my poor Ximena; lay thy dear one down to rest;<br>Let his hands be meekly folded, lay the cross upon his breast;<br>Let his dirge be sung hereafter, and his funeral masses said;<br>To-day, thou poor bereaved one, the living ask thy aid.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Close beside her, faintly moaning, fair and young, a soldier lay,<br>Torn with shot and pierced with lances, bleeding slow his life away;<br>But, as tenderly before him the lorn Ximena knelt,<br>She saw the Northern eagle shining on his pistol-belt.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">With a stifled cry of horror straight she turned away her head;<br>With a sad and bitter feeling looked she back upon her dead;<br>But she heard the youth's low moaning, and his struggling breath of pain,<br>And she raised the cooling water to his parching lips again.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Whispered low the dying soldier, pressed her hand and faintly smiled;<br>Was that pitying face his mother's? did she watch beside her child?<br>All his stranger words with meaning her woman's heart supplied;<br>With her kiss upon his forehead, 'Mother!' murmured he, and died!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'A bitter curse upon them, poor boy, who led thee forth,<br>From some gentle, sad-eyed mother, weeping, lonely, in the North!'<br>Spake the mournful Mexic woman, as she laid him with her dead,<br>And turned to soothe the living, and bind the wounds which bled.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Look forth once more, Ximena!' Like a cloud before the wind<br>Rolls the battle down the mountains, leaving blood and death behind;<br>Ah! they plead in vain for mercy; in the dust the wounded strive;<br>'Hide your faces, holy angels! O thou Christ of God, forgive!'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sink, O Night, among thy mountains! let the cool, gray shadows fall;<br>Dying brothers, fighting demons, drop thy curtain over all!<br>Through the thickening winter twilight, wide apart the battle rolled,<br>In its sheath the sabre rested, and the cannon's lips grew cold.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But the noble Mexic women still their holy task pursued,<br>Through that long, dark night of sorrow, worn and faint and lacking food.<br>Over weak and suffering brothers, with a tender care they hung,<br>And the dying foeman blessed them in a strange and Northern tongue.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420645" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Not wholly lost, O Father! is this evil world of ours;<br>Upward, through its blood and ashes, spring afresh the Eden flowers;<br>From its smoking hell of battle, Love and Pity send their prayer,<br>And still thy white-winged angels hover dimly in our air!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a></strong></div>