"Equipped as for a holiday,
With bounteous store of everything
To use or comfort minist'ring,
All cheerily we marched away.
"But as the struggle fiercer grew,
Light marching orders came apace,—
And baggage-wagon soon gave place
To that which sterner uses knew.
"Our tents—they went a year ago;
Now kettle, spider, frying-pan
Are lost to us, and as we can
We live, while marching to and fro.
"Our food has lessened, till at length,
E'en want's gaunt image seems to threat—
A foe to whom the bravest yet
Must yield at last his knightly strength.
"But while we've meat and flour enough
The bayonet shall be our spit—
The ramrod bake our dough on it—
A gum-cloth be our kneading trough.
"We'll bear privation, danger dare,
While even these are left to us—
Be hopeful, faithful, emulous
Of gallant deeds, though hard our fare!"
II.—1864.
"Three years and more," we grimly said,
When order came to "Rest at will"
Beside the corn-field on the hill,
As on a weary march we sped—
"Three years and more we've met the foe
On many a gory, hard-fought field,
And still we swear we cannot yield
Till Fate shall bring some deeper woe.
"Three years and more we've struggled on,
Through torrid heat and winter's chill,
Nor bated aught of steadfast will,
Though even hope seems almost gone.