Fables in Song :: :: University of Virginia Library

A battery, posted in haste, at last,
On the brow of a hill in the foeman's flank,
Had decided the fate of the day. Fast, fast,
In many a broken and billowy rank
The bewilder'd rear of his battle fled.
But, rapid behind, like a rushing wind
That rattles with hail, to the lowland red
Down from the ridge of the smoky hill,
The cavalry clash'd in a clattering shower;
Crushing the harvest, and chasing still
All that was left of a nation's power.

And wide it swept over the wasted plain,
That rapture of ruin, red in the glare
Of burning barns; and the bolted rain
Sang thro' the blacken'd and sulphurous air,
As in storm it stream'd and subsided again;

Till all was still save the far-off blare
Of a ghostly bugle, echoing chill;
Whose echoes, heard by the yet unslain
O'er leagues of litter, from hill to hill
Proclaim'd that the hurly-burly was done:
A kingdom lost and a kingdom won!