large/7841/battle-pieces_aspects_war_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/battle-pieces_27_melville_64kb_15
large/7841/battle-pieces_aspects_war_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/battle-pieces_27_melville_64kb
English
7841
_Since the venom such blastment deals, The south should have paused, and thrice, Ere with heat of her hate she hatched The egg with the cockatrice. SINCE THE VENOM SUCH BLASTHEMENT DEALS THE SOUTH SHOULD HAVE PAUSED AND THRICE ERE WITH HEAT OF HER HATE SHE HATCHED THE EGG WITH THE COCKATRICE
eeans; and the ten Camps _there_--ask your grave-pits; they’ll tell. Halloa! I see the picket-hut, the den Where I last night lay.” “Where’s Lee” “In the hearts and bayonets of all yon men!” _The tribes swarm up to war As in ages long ago, Ere the palm of promise leaved And the lily of Christ did blow._ Their mounted pickets for miles are spied Dotting the lowland plain, The nearer ones in their veteran-rags-- Loutish they loll in lazy disdain. But ours in perilous places bide With rifles ready and eyes that strain Deep through the dim suspected wood Where the Rapidan rolls amain. _The Indian has passed away, But creeping comes another-- Deadlier far. Picket, Take heed--take heed of thy brother!_ From a wood-hung height, an outpost lone, Crowned with a woodman’s fort, The sentinel looks on a land of dole, Like Paran, all amort. Black chimneys, gigantic in moor-like wastes, The scowl of the clouded sky retort; The hearth is a houseless stone again-- Ah! where shall the people be sought? ISSISSIPPIANS KENTUCKIANS FOLLOW MY FINGER TENNESSEANS AND THE TEN CAMPS THERE ASK YOUR GRAVE PITS THEY'LL TELL HOOA I SEE THE PICKET HUT THE DEN WHERE I LAST NIGHT LAY WHERE'S LEE IN THE HEARTS AND BAYONETS OF ALL YON MEN THE TRIBES SWARM UP TO WAR AS IN AGES LONG AGO ERE THE PALM OF PROMISE LEAVED AND THE LILY OF CHRIST DID BLOW THEIR MOUNTED PICKETS FOR MILES ARE SPIED DOTTING THE LOWLAND PLAIN THE NEARER ONES IN THEIR VETERAN RAGS LOUTISH THEY LULL IN LAZY DISDAIN BUT OURS AS PERILOUS PLACES BIDE WITH RIFLES READY IN EYES THAT STRAIN DEEP THROUGH THE DIM SUSPECTED WOOD WHERE THE RAPID ENROLLS AMAIN THE INDIAN HAS PASSED AWAY BUT CREEPING COMES ANOTHER DEADLIER FAR PICKET TAKE HEED TAKE HEED OF THY BROTHER FROM A WOODHUNG HEIGHT AN OUTPOST LONE CROWNED WITH A WOODMAN'S FORT THE SENTINEL LOOKS ON A LAND OF DOLE LIKE PERRIN ALL A MORT BLACK CHIMNEYS GIGANTIC IN MOOR LIKE WASTE THE SCOWL OF THE CLOUDED SKY RETORT THE HEARTH IS A HOUSELESS STONE AGAIN AH WHERE SHALL THE PEOPLE BE SOUGHT
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