A furnace blast in every breath,

On Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg.

’Tis Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg:

Brave leaders fall on every hand!

Unheard, unheeded all command!

Battered in front and torn in flank;

A frenzied mob in broken rank!

They come like demons with a yell,

And fight like demons all pell-mell!

The wounded stop not till they fall;