I am sure that true Virginians were never yet afraid;
“Ten thousand deaths I’d rather die, than they should gain the field;”
With that he got a fatal shot, which caused him to yield.
Says Major Clarke, “My heroes, I can no longer stand;
We’ll try to form in order, and retreat the best we can.”
The word “retreat” being passed around, there was a dismal cry,
Then helter-skelter through the woods, like wolves and sheep they fly.
This well-appointed army, which but the day before,
Defied and braved all danger, had like a cloud passed o’er.
Alas! the dying and wounded, how dreadful was the thought,