3 April 1865

Starved of fortune, pallid gloom descends
Exhausted weapons lie in April mud
We burned our houses with transparent hands
We’d strength enough for that, oh yes, no more
No more is all we left th’ interminable Foe
Resistless Power we did long resist
He stood immutable outside our walls
His face a grizzled grim, unswerving eye
His look a mix of pity and desire
We watched Him o’er the bony peaks of Richmond
He entered there one hundred million strong
And found a shell, a corpse, dead streets or dying
He found a cave and not a palace here
And with a melancholy sigh He said
“And this is Richmond.” Yes, this Richmond is.

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