The Sombre Shadows Were Seamed by the Winding of the Pale River

I looked at the maid. She was as she had been. Then into every dusky place and corner, but nothing moved or stirred. I then rose and walked to the tent flap and lifted it and looked out down in the long valley below. The sombre shadows were seamed by the winding of the pale river. And all away on the low meadows piled thick and deep with the black mounds of dead foemen, the pale marsh lights were playing amid the corpses.