Suppose for a moment, George, my friend— Just for a moment—you condescend To use the means that are in your hands, The eager muskets and guns and brands; Take one bold step on the Southern sod, And leave the issue to watchful God! For now the nation raises its gorge, Waiting and watching you, tardy George.
I should not much wonder, George, my boy, If Stanton get in his head a toy, And some fine morning, ere you are out, He send you all “to the right about”— You and Jomini, and all the crew Who think that war is nothing to do But to drill and cipher, and hammer and forge— What are you waiting for, tardy George?
January, 1862.
WANTED—A MAN.
By Edmund Clarence Stedman.
[This virile cry for a fit leader for the Army of the Potomac was inspired by an editorial article of Henry J. Raymond in the New York Times. It was written in 1862, when the popular feeling of chagrin and humiliation over McClellan’s failure and Pope’s disaster at Manassas was most intense. Mr. Lincoln was so strongly impressed by the poem that he read it to his Cabinet.—Editor.]
