Black with the ruins of the vandal flame,
A carnival of misery and shame.
I must abridge, and if my hearers please,
Confine myself to generalities.
From first Manassas to the Wilderness,
A period of some four years,—more or less,
But anyway, till long in sixty-four,
A musket or a shoulder-strap I bore.
Though years have passed, I have remembrance yet
Of musketry and glistening bayonet.