As when brave numbers without number, massed,
Plumed the broad way, and pouring passed—
Bannered, beflowered—between the shores
Of faces, and the dinn’d huzzas,
And balconies kindling at the sabre-flash,
’Mid roar of drums and guns, and cymbal-crash,
While Grant and Sherman shone in blue—
Close of the war and victory’s long review.
Yet pride at hand still aidful swelled,
And up the hard ascent he held.