In nearness now
  He marks the Capitol—­a show
Lifted in amplitude, and set
With standards flushed with a glow of Richmond yet;
  Trees and green terraces sleep below. 
Through the clear air, in sunny light,
The marble dazes—­a temple white.

Intrepid soldier! had his blade been drawn
For yon stirred flag, never as now
Bid to the Senate-house had he gone,
But freely, and in pageant borne,
As when brave numbers without number, massed,
Plumed the broad way, and pouring passed—­
Bannered, beflowered—­between the shores
Of faces, and the dinn’d huzzas,
And balconies kindling at the sabre-flash,
’Mid roar of drums and guns, and cymbal-crash,
While Grant and Sherman shone in blue—­
Close of the war and victory’s long review.

Yet pride at hand still aidful swelled,
And up the hard ascent he held. 
The meeting follows.  In his mien
The victor and the vanquished both are seen—­
All that he is, and what he late had been. 
Awhile, with curious eyes they scan
The Chief who led invasion’s van—­
Allied by family to one,
Founder of the Arch the Invader warred upon: 
Who looks at Lee must think of Washington;
In pain must think, and hide the thought,
So deep with grievous meaning it is fraught.

Secession in her soldier shows
Silent and patient; and they feel
  (Developed even in just success)
Dim inklings of a hazy future steal;
  Their thoughts their questions well express: 
“Does the sad South still cherish hate? 
Freely will Southen men with Northern mate? 
The blacks—­should we our arm withdraw,
Would that betray them? some distrust your law. 
And how if foreign fleets should come—­
Would the South then drive her wedges home”
And more hereof.  The Virginian sees—­
Replies to such anxieties. 
Discreet his answers run—­appear
Briefly straightforward, coldly clear.

“If now,” the Senators, closing, say,
“Aught else remain, speak out, we pray”
Hereat he paused; his better heart
Strove strongly then; prompted a worthier part
Than coldly to endure his doom. 
Speak out?  Ay, speak, and for the brave,
Who else no voice or proxy have;
Frankly their spokesman here become,
And the flushed North from her own victory save. 
That inspiration overrode—­
Hardly it quelled the galling load
Of personal ill.  The inner feud
He, self-contained, a while withstood;
They waiting.  In his troubled eye
Shadows from clouds unseen they spy;
They could not mark within his breast
The pang which pleading thought oppressed: 
He spoke, nor felt the bitterness die.