Terrible Tractoration, and Other Poems

by Thomas Green Fessenden

To provoke the distant fight,

There shall countless heroes fall,

There shall countless heroes fall,

When the din of battle join’d,

Hurtles in the hollow wind.

Fiends of horror flit around,

Dying heroes strow the ground,

Countless ghosts shall wailing go

To the sullen shades below.

Laud we then the God of Heav’n,