THE BATTLE OF MURFREESBORO.
Cheered on by noble Rosecrans,
Behold our Union troops advance
To seek the foe in fight!
The center fearless Thomas leads;
The left with Crittenden proceeds;
McCook commands the right.
Opposed is Bragg, who of the band
Of rebels holds the chief command;
Beneath whose banner ranged,
Are Breckinridge, Claiborne, Hardee,
And Cheatham’s Southern chivalry,
In hate and crime unchanged.
’Twas the last day of “sixty-two”
When these two hosts appeared in view,
Both eager for the fray;
They scorned the sun’s more tardy plan,
And fierce their murderous work began,
Ere he could dart a ray!
The rebels, as their wont has been,
With wondrous skill and foresight keen,
Their forces concentrate,
To break our columns, wing by wing;
And soon their cheers, the echoes ring,
Triumphant and elate!
Within the cedars’ gloomy shade,
Where many a heart fleshed many a blade,
And many a hero fell:
What deeds were done are lost in night;
Who shrank from, who maintained, the fight,
No mortal tongue can tell.
Well might the fierce and wild uproar
That swelled each moment more and more
Cause iron nerves to start;
Well might the cannon thundering far,
The hubbub of chaotic war,
Appall the stoutest heart!
And, as the torrent onward rolled,
The patriot’s faith might well grow cold,
And tremble for the end;
And doubt our power to turn the tide,
Since hostile troops tramp down and ride
O’er prostrate foe and friend!
But Rosecrans, through cloud and din,
To bide their time his men curbed in,
Nor for an instant faltered;
There by his confidence inspired,
And with heroic courage fired,
They stood unmoved, unaltered!
His massed reserves stood calm, erect,
Nor could the keenest eye detect
A sign of flinching there;
And when the rebel host came on,
Elate as if from victory won,
“The Union” rent the air.
Then came the fearful tug of strife,
Then Greek met Greek—then life for life—
None pity asked or gave;
’Tis well the smoke conceals the fray—
Too frightful for the eye of day;
What seeks the foe?—a grave!
It seemed as the sirocco’s breath
Had swept them off, its frown beneath,
And lo!—they soundly sleep,—
Their cheers in death’s deep silence hushed,
Like those in the Sahara crushed,
The winds their requiem weep.
Thus perish all our Country’s foes,
All despots, tyrants, and all those
Who trample on mankind!
Thus triumph Freedom and the Right,
And quickly come God’s kingdom bright
Of Virtue, Truth and Mind!
And we have losses to deplore,
Brave men as ever banner bore,
As Shafer, Roberts, Sill,
Allsop and others whose fair name
Shall live on freedom’s scroll of fame,
And hearts with rapture fill.
For who can cease to love the brave
Who died their Country’s life to save?
We envy them—not mourn;
Long as the sun shall gild the sky,
Beloved shall be their memory
By millions yet unborn!
E’en while I write, a voice divine,
Floats sweetly from the banks of Rhine,
Where fair Bavaria’s lovely maids
And virtuous dames, in vine-clad glades,
Prepare with their own hands the lint
And linen without let or stint;
And say: “Let us the honor share,
This balm for patriots to prepare,
Who nobly fight and willing fall,
At Freedom’s and their Country’s call.”
The priceless packages they send
Thus marked; “For heroes who defend
The cause of God and all mankind,
Their wounds to soothe, their bruises bind,
These bales of lint and linen fine
Go from Bavaria on the Rhine,
To the far off United States
Now nobly struggling with the fates:
May Heaven defend her in the strife
And re-establish health and life!”
And lo! Columbia with a tear
Of gratitude is pleased to hear
And see this tribute of true love
From lands which oceans far remove:
It gives her courage to renew
The fight, and rebels to pursue.
For sympathy in deep distress
From distant friends is sure to bless;
Though forced her suffering sons to mourn,
She greets Germania thus in turn:
“Land of the Danube and the Rhine,
Where freedom shed her light divine
Long ere Hyrcania’s wood explored
Had heard the howl of despot lord;
Which Rome would penetrate in vain,
And bind in her all grasping chain;
Land of the Anglo-Saxon race,
And of the Frank, ere yet a trace
Of slavery had chained their sons,
Through Normans, Guelphs, Napoleons;
Fair land of Gutenberg and Faust,
Restorer of an art long lost;
Land of brave Luther who restored
Man’s right to read the Eternal Word;
Land of the sacred Muses nine,
Where Klopstock, Goethe, Schiller, shine;
Where Bach, Mozart and Mendelssohn
Were rivalled by thy sons alone,
Beethoven, Meyerbeer and Liszt;
No land beneath the sun exists,
Where genius, learning, science, art,
So brightly shine, so charm the heart:
Land of the rose and of the vine;
Land of Bavaria and the Rhine,
Accept Columbia’s grateful thanks;
Thy sons adorn her martial ranks,
Thy noble daughters far away
The purest worth and love display
For her and all who love the Right,
And in the cause of Freedom fight;
Our wounded heroes, while they bleed,
Pray Heaven to bless you for this deed:
And, as with grateful hearts they feel
Your love in these sweet gifts that heal,
Their souls expand with love divine
Towards all who dwell upon the Rhine,
And praise the matrons and fair maids
Who bask beneath its vine-clad glades.
And if a time should ever come,
When you shall seek a Western home,
Come on with courage and good cheer,
You’ll find a glorious welcome here!
Or if occasion should arise
To aid you ’gainst your enemies,
Columbia’s sons combined with thine
Will sweep the tyrants off the Rhine,
Where our united flags shall wave,
In triumph o’er the Despots’ grave!”