Who Would Believe?

Who would believe that on this plain
A few weeks since two armies stood,

Engaged in fierce, destructive fight,
Drenching the country with their blood?

A direful day it was throughout,
Foe facing here, foe charging there,

Death in the van death in the rear;
Sabres were flashing in the air.

Then, like a troubled brow,

The sky was cloudy, dark and wild.

Now it looks pleasant, like the smile
Upon the bright face of a child.

The earth was like a hoary head;
Covered with snow was all the scene;
Now like the hopes of ardent youth
The earth is dressed in brightest green.
Then bullets whistled through the air,
We heard the mighty cannon's roll;

Above us now the nightingale

Pours out in song her lovebound soul.

Wherever then we cast our eyes
We only saw death's ghastly show;
But now the sweetest-scented flowers
In beauteous efflorescence grow.
Who would believe that on this plain
A few weeks since two armies stood,
Engaged in fierce, destructive fight,

Drenching the country with their blood?