large/7841/battle-pieces_aspects_war_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/battle-pieces_10_melville_64kb_19
large/7841/battle-pieces_aspects_war_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/battle-pieces_10_melville_64kb
English
7841
may Time with happy haste Bring wail and triumph to a waste, And war be done; The battle flag staff fall athwart The curs'd ravine, and wither; naught Be left of trench or gun; The bastion, let it ebb away, Washed with the river bed; and Day In vain seek Donelson. MAY TIME WITH HAPPY HASTE BRING WAIL AND TRIUMPH TO A WASTE AND WAR BE DONE THE BATTLE FLAGSTAFF FALL ATHWART THE CURSED RAVINE AND WHITHER NAUGHT BE LEFT OF TRENCH OR GUN THE BASTION LET IT EBB AWAY WASHED WITH THE RIVER BED AND DAY IN VAIN SEEK DONNELSON
go To-day to Nashville. The sleet-winds blow; But all is right: the fight is won, The winter-fight for Donelson. Hurrah! The spell of old defeat is broke, The Habit of victory begun; Grant strikes the war’s first sounding stroke At Donelson. For lists of killed and wounded, see The morrow’s dispatch: to-day ’tis victory._ The man who read this to the crowd Shouted as the end he gained; And though the unflagging tempest rained, They answered him aloud. And hand grasped hand, and glances met In happy triumph; eyes grew wet. O, to the punches brewed that night Went little water. Windows bright Beamed rosy on the sleet without, And from the deep street came the frequent shout; While some in prayer, as these in glee, Blessed heaven for the winter-victory. But others were who wakeful laid In midnight beds, and early rose, And, feverish in the foggy snows, Snatched the damp paper--wife and maid. The death-list like a river flows Down the pale sheet, And there the whelming waters meet. Ah God!  GREAT BOAT LOADS OF OUR WOUNDED GO TO DAY TO NASHVILLE THE SLEET WINDS BLOW BUT ALL IS RIGHT THE FIGHT IS WON THE WINTER FIGHT FOR DONAL SON HURRAH THE SPELL OF OLD DEFEAT IS BROKE THE HABIT OF VICTORY BEGUN GRANT STRIKES THE WAR'S FIRST SOUNDING STROKE AT DONAL SON FOR LISTS OF KILLED AND WOUNDED SEE THE MORROW'S DISPATCH TO DAY TIS VICTORY THE MAN WHO READ THIS TO THE CROWD SHOUTED AS THE END HE GAINED AND THOUGH THE UNFLAGGING TEMPEST REIGNED THEY ANSWERED HIM ALOUD AND HAND GRASPED HAND AND GLANCES MET IN HAPPY TRIUMPH EYES GREW WET OH TO THE PUNCHES BREWED THAT NIGHT WENT LITTLE WATER WINDOWS BRIGHT BEAMED ROSY ON THE SLEET WITHOUT AND FROM THE DEEP STREET CAME THE FREQUENT SHOUT WHILE SOME IN PRAYER AS THESE IN GLEE BLESSED HEAVEN FOR THE WINTER VICTORY BUT OTHERS WERE WHO WAKEFUL LATE IN MIDNIGHT BEDS AND EARLY ROSE AND FEVERISH IN THE FOGGY SNOWS SNATCHED THE DAMP PAPER WIFE AND MAID THE DEATHLESS LIKE A RIVER FLOWS DOWN THE PALE SHEET AND THERE THE WHELMING WATERS MEET AH GOD
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