[CHAPTER I.]
CAMP NEAR WASHINGTON.
“As by the west wind driven, the ocean waves
Dash forward on the far-resounding shore,
Wave upon wave: first curls the ruffled sea,
With whit’ning crests; anon with thundering roar
It breaks upon the beach, and, from the crags
Recoiling, flings in giant curves its head
Aloft, and tosses high the wild sea-spray,
Column on column—so the hosts of Greece
Poured ceaseless to the war.”