That one dark I owe my light,
Call for confessor and wiser mirror but there is none
To glow after the god stoning night
And I am struck as lonely as a holy marker by the sun
No
Praise that the spring time is all
Gabriel and radiant shrubbery as the morning grows joyful
Out of the woebegone pyre
And the multitude's sultry tear turns cool on the weeping wall,
My arising prodgidal
Sun the father his quiver full of the infants of pure fire,
But blessed be hail and upheaval
That uncalm still it is sure alone to stand and sing
Alone in the husk of man's home
And the mother and toppling house of the holy spring,
If only for a last time.
The “uncalm” could be loneliness.  The loneliness the war creates because of the mass amounts of death it brings will stand and sing, or spread all over, creating a world of loneliness. 
 Also could mean that the loneliness, restlessness, anxiety the speaker feels because of his friends death will be prominent in his life.
Holy Spring