At length we charged. My very heart Sank down within me, cold and dumb, When to the front, and far ahead, Rushed Charley with his drum!
Above the cannon’s thundering boom, The din and shriek of shot and shell, We heard its clear peal rolling out Right gallantly and well.
A moment’s awful waiting! Then There came a sullen, angry roar,— O God! An empty void remained Where Charley stood before.
What did we then? With souls on fire We swept upon the advancing foe, And bade good angels guard the dust O‘er which no tears might flow!”
SUPPLICAMUS
1864
O laggard Sun! make haste to wake From her long trance the slumbering earth; Make haste this icy spell to break, That she may give new glories birth!
O April rain! so soft, so warm, Bounteous in blessing, rich in gifts, Drop tenderly upon her form, And bathe the forehead she uplifts.
O springing grass! make haste to run With swift feet o’er the meadows bare; O’er hill and dale, through forest dun, And where the wandering brooklets are!
O sweet wild flowers! the darksome mould Hasten with subtle strength to rift; Serene in beauty, meek yet bold, Your fair brows to the sunlight lift!