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. Idyls of battle and poems of the rebellion. the fatal place was filled, And still our colors waved abroad. The place was slippery with our blood,Where we fell, fighting for our land ! 96 THE RANSOMED BANNER. We dropped about, like withered leaves,And could no longer make a stand. Retreat! We, ckafing at tke word,Thrilled tlirough and through with loyalshame, — In sullen gloom we wheeled souls with fierce regret aflame ! When one, a noble, fair-faced boy, Whom Fate had nurtured for that hour, — He ignorant of his high emprise, —Sprang up, fLiU-statured, into power. The ancient thril
. Idyls of battle and poems of the rebellion. the fatal place was filled, And still our colors waved abroad. The place was slippery with our blood,Where we fell, fighting for our land ! 96 THE RANSOMED BANNER. We dropped about, like withered leaves,And could no longer make a stand. Retreat! We, ckafing at tke word,Thrilled tlirough and through with loyalshame, — In sullen gloom we wheeled souls with fierce regret aflame ! When one, a noble, fair-faced boy, Whom Fate had nurtured for that hour, — He ignorant of his high emprise, —Sprang up, fLiU-statured, into power. The ancient thrill of prophet flame. The spirit of our primal men,Transfiguring our common clay, Flashed through the youthful hero then ! Our flag ! our flag forever, boys ! He tore it from the spoilers hand; One moment oer his dauntless headIt waved, — the glory of the land ! THE RANSOMED BANNER. 97 And then ! — young martyr of the West,Our tears must drown the tribute-song ; But ever shall thy memory hve, While Right shall battle with the Wrong !. BRINGING HIM HOME! [Col. , who led a charge at Pittsburg Landing, was reported to be alive and well at the very time when hisbody was being taken to his family.] TTTHY, mother! What s the matter?How you stare ! Why wont you let me see the letter, too ? Why do you hide it? T is from HenryGray, And so there must be news from the battle-field, — Perhaps a word of dearest Alfred, too! He has not written, — he s too busy now, — My brave ! my soldier ! loyal lion-heart! Forever foremost in the advancing ranks. He was, I know, among the very first To fi:ont the foe and drive him from liis lair. BRINGING HIM HOME! 99 I read it in the paper yesterday, how thestanch Seventh Swooped upon the foe, and backed their Col-onel in his brilHant charge. And he ? He was not hurt; they re sureof that. I breathed not, moved not, till I read so far; And then I fell all quivering on my knees. Not to pray, but weep out all my thankful-ness. And then my life
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookididylsofbattl, bookyear1864