 | The poetical works of John Townsend Trowbridge |  |
36
LYRICS OF THE WAR
THE LAST RALLY
[November, 1864.]
Rally! rally! rally!
Arouse the slumbering land!
Rally! rally! from mountain and valley,
From city and ocean-strand!
Ye sons of the West, America's best!
New Hampshire's men of might!
From prairie and crag unfurl the flag,
And rally to the fight!
Arouse the slumbering land!
Rally! rally! from mountain and valley,
From city and ocean-strand!
Ye sons of the West, America's best!
New Hampshire's men of might!
From prairie and crag unfurl the flag,
And rally to the fight!
Armies of untried heroes,
Disguised in craftsman and clerk!
Ye men of the coast, invincible host!
Come, every one, to the work,—
From the fisherman gray as the salt-sea spray
That on Long Island breaks,
To the youth who tills the uttermost hills
By the blue northwestern lakes!
Disguised in craftsman and clerk!
Ye men of the coast, invincible host!
Come, every one, to the work,—
From the fisherman gray as the salt-sea spray
That on Long Island breaks,
To the youth who tills the uttermost hills
By the blue northwestern lakes!
Old men shall fight with the ballot,
Weapon the last and best,—
And the bayonet, with blood red-wet,
Shall write the will of the rest;
And the boys shall fill men's places,
And the little maid shall rock
Her doll as she sits with her grandam and knits
An unknown hero's sock.
Weapon the last and best,—
And the bayonet, with blood red-wet,
Shall write the will of the rest;
And the boys shall fill men's places,
And the little maid shall rock
Her doll as she sits with her grandam and knits
An unknown hero's sock.
And the hearts of heroic mothers,
And the deeds of noble wives,
With their power to bless shall aid no less
Than the brave who give their lives.
The rich their gold shall bring, and the old
Shall help us with their prayers;
While hovering hosts of pallid ghosts
Attend us unawares.
And the deeds of noble wives,
With their power to bless shall aid no less
Than the brave who give their lives.
The rich their gold shall bring, and the old
Shall help us with their prayers;
While hovering hosts of pallid ghosts
Attend us unawares.
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From the ghastly fields of Shiloh
Muster the phantom bands,
From Virginia's swamps, and Death's white camps
On Carolina sands;
From Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg,
I see them gathering fast;
And up from Manassas, what is it that passes
Like thin clouds in the blast?
Muster the phantom bands,
From Virginia's swamps, and Death's white camps
On Carolina sands;
From Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg,
I see them gathering fast;
And up from Manassas, what is it that passes
Like thin clouds in the blast?
From the Wilderness, where blanches
The nameless skeleton;
From Vicksburg's slaughter and red-streaked water,
And the trenches of Donelson;
From the cruel, cruel prisons,
Where their bodies pined away,
From groaning decks, from sunken wrecks,
They gather with us to-day.
The nameless skeleton;
From Vicksburg's slaughter and red-streaked water,
And the trenches of Donelson;
From the cruel, cruel prisons,
Where their bodies pined away,
From groaning decks, from sunken wrecks,
They gather with us to-day.
And they say to us, “Rally! rally!
The work is almost done!
Ye harvesters, sally from mountain and valley,
And reap the fields we won!
We sowed for endless years of peace,
We harrowed and watered well;
Our dying deeds were the scattered seeds:
Shall they perish where they fell?”
The work is almost done!
Ye harvesters, sally from mountain and valley,
And reap the fields we won!
We sowed for endless years of peace,
We harrowed and watered well;
Our dying deeds were the scattered seeds:
Shall they perish where they fell?”
And their brothers, left behind them
In the deadly roar and clash
Of cannon and sword, by fort and ford,
And the carbine's quivering flash,—
Before the Rebel citadel
Just trembling to its fall,
From Georgia's glens, from Florida's fens,
For us they call, they call!
In the deadly roar and clash
Of cannon and sword, by fort and ford,
And the carbine's quivering flash,—
Before the Rebel citadel
Just trembling to its fall,
From Georgia's glens, from Florida's fens,
For us they call, they call!
One more sublime endeavor
And behold the dawn of peace!
One more endeavor, and war forever
Throughout the land shall cease!
For ever and ever the vanquished power
Of slavery shall be slain,
And freedom's stained and trampled flower
Shall blossom white again!
And behold the dawn of peace!
One more endeavor, and war forever
Throughout the land shall cease!
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Of slavery shall be slain,
And freedom's stained and trampled flower
Shall blossom white again!
THE COLOR-BEARER
'T was a fortress to be stormed:
Boldly right in view they formed,
All as quiet as a regiment parading:
Then in front a line of flame!
Then at left and right the same!
Two platoons received a furious enfilading.
To their places still they filed,
And they smiled at the wild
Cannonading.
Boldly right in view they formed,
All as quiet as a regiment parading:
Then in front a line of flame!
Then at left and right the same!
Two platoons received a furious enfilading.
To their places still they filed,
And they smiled at the wild
Cannonading.
“'T will be over in an hour!
'T will not be much of a shower!
Never mind, my boys,” said he, “a little drizzling!”
Then to cross that fatal plain,
Through the whirring, hurtling rain
Of the grape-shot and the minie-bullets' whistling!
But he nothing heeds nor shuns,
As he runs with the guns
Brightly bristling!
'T will not be much of a shower!
Never mind, my boys,” said he, “a little drizzling!”
Then to cross that fatal plain,
Through the whirring, hurtling rain
Of the grape-shot and the minie-bullets' whistling!
But he nothing heeds nor shuns,
As he runs with the guns
Brightly bristling!
Leaving trails of dead and dying
In their track, yet forward flying
Like a breaker where the gale of conflict rolled them,
With a foam of flashing light
Borne before them on their bright
Burnished barrels,—O, 't was fearful to behold them!
While from ramparts roaring loud
Swept a cloud like a shroud
To enfold them!
In their track, yet forward flying
Like a breaker where the gale of conflict rolled them,
With a foam of flashing light
Borne before them on their bright
Burnished barrels,—O, 't was fearful to behold them!
While from ramparts roaring loud
Swept a cloud like a shroud
To enfold them!
O, his color was the first!
Through the burying cloud he burst,
With the standard to the battle forward slanted!
Through the belching, blinding breath
Of the flaming jaws of Death,
With the banner on the bastion to be planted!
By the screaming shot that fell,
And the yell of the shell,
Nothing daunted.
Through the burying cloud he burst,
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Through the belching, blinding breath
Of the flaming jaws of Death,
With the banner on the bastion to be planted!
By the screaming shot that fell,
And the yell of the shell,
Nothing daunted.
Right against the bulwark dashing,
Over tangled branches crashing,
'Mid the plunging volleys thundering ever louder,
There he clambers, there he stands,
With the ensign in his hands,—
O, was ever hero handsomer or prouder?
Streaked with battle-sweat and slime
And sublime in the grime
Of the powder!
Over tangled branches crashing,
'Mid the plunging volleys thundering ever louder,
There he clambers, there he stands,
With the ensign in his hands,—
O, was ever hero handsomer or prouder?
Streaked with battle-sweat and slime
And sublime in the grime
Of the powder!
'T was six minutes, at the least,
Ere the closing combat ceased,—
Near as we the mighty moments then could measure,—
And we held our souls with awe,
Till his haughty flag we saw
On the lifting vapors drifting o'er the embrasure,
Saw it glimmer in our tears,
While our ears heard the cheers
Rend the azure!
Ere the closing combat ceased,—
Near as we the mighty moments then could measure,—
And we held our souls with awe,
Till his haughty flag we saw
On the lifting vapors drifting o'er the embrasure,
Saw it glimmer in our tears,
While our ears heard the cheers
Rend the azure!
THE JAGUAR HUNT
[May, 1865]
The dark jaguar was abroad in the land;
His strength and his fierceness what foe could withstand?
The breath of his anger was hot on the air,
And the white lamb of Peace he had dragged to his lair.
His strength and his fierceness what foe could withstand?
The breath of his anger was hot on the air,
And the white lamb of Peace he had dragged to his lair.
Then up rose the Farmer; he summoned his sons:
“Now saddle your horses, now look to your guns!”
And he called to his hound, as he sprang from the ground
To the back of his black pawing steed with a bound.
“Now saddle your horses, now look to your guns!”
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To the back of his black pawing steed with a bound.
O, their hearts, at the word, how they tingled and stirred!
They followed, all belted and booted and spurred.
“Buckle tight, boys!” said he, “for who gallops with me,
Such a hunt as was never before he shall see!
They followed, all belted and booted and spurred.
“Buckle tight, boys!” said he, “for who gallops with me,
Such a hunt as was never before he shall see!
“This traitor, we know him! for when he was younger,
We flattered him, patted him, fed his fierce hunger:
But now far too long we have borne with the wrong,
For each morsel we tossed makes him savage and strong.”
We flattered him, patted him, fed his fierce hunger:
But now far too long we have borne with the wrong,
For each morsel we tossed makes him savage and strong.”
Then said one, “He must die!” And they took up the cry,
“For this last crime of his he must die! he must die!”
But the slow eldest-born sauntered sad and forlorn,
For his heart was at home on that fair hunting-morn.
“For this last crime of his he must die! he must die!”
But the slow eldest-born sauntered sad and forlorn,
For his heart was at home on that fair hunting-morn.
“I remember,” he said, “how this fine cub we track
Has carried me many a time on his back!”
And he called to his brothers, “Fight gently! be kind!”
And he kept the dread hound, Retribution, behind.
Has carried me many a time on his back!”
And he called to his brothers, “Fight gently! be kind!”
And he kept the dread hound, Retribution, behind.
The dark jaguar on a bough in the brake
Crouched, silent and wily, and lithe as a snake:
They spied not their game, but, as onward they came,
Through the dense leafage gleamed two red eyeballs of flame.
Crouched, silent and wily, and lithe as a snake:
They spied not their game, but, as onward they came,
Through the dense leafage gleamed two red eyeballs of flame.
Black-spotted, and mottled, and whiskered, and grim,
White-bellied, and yellow, he lay on the limb,
All so still that you saw but just one tawny paw
Lightly reach through the leaves and as softly withdraw.
White-bellied, and yellow, he lay on the limb,
All so still that you saw but just one tawny paw
Lightly reach through the leaves and as softly withdraw.
Then shrilled his fierce cry, as the riders drew nigh,
And he shot from the bough like a bolt from the sky:
In the foremost he fastened his fangs as he fell,
While all the black jungle reëchoed his yell.
And he shot from the bough like a bolt from the sky:
In the foremost he fastened his fangs as he fell,
While all the black jungle reëchoed his yell.
O, then there was carnage by field and by flood!
The green sod was crimsoned, the rivers ran blood,
The cornfields were trampled, and all in their track
The beautiful valley lay blasted and black.
The green sod was crimsoned, the rivers ran blood,
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The beautiful valley lay blasted and black.
Now the din of the conflict swells deadly and loud,
And the dust of the tumult rolls up like a cloud:
Then afar down the slope of the Southland recedes
The wild rapid clatter of galloping steeds.
And the dust of the tumult rolls up like a cloud:
Then afar down the slope of the Southland recedes
The wild rapid clatter of galloping steeds.
With wide nostrils smoking, and flanks dripping gore,
The black stallion bore his bold rider before,
As onward they thundered through forest and glen,
A-hunting the dark jaguar to his den.
The black stallion bore his bold rider before,
As onward they thundered through forest and glen,
A-hunting the dark jaguar to his den.
In April, sweet April, the chase was begun;
It was April again, when the hunting was done:
The snows of four winters and four summers green
Lay red-streaked and trodden and blighted between.
It was April again, when the hunting was done:
The snows of four winters and four summers green
Lay red-streaked and trodden and blighted between.
Then the monster stretched all his grim length on the ground;
His life-blood was wasting from many a wound;
Ferocious and gory and dying he lay,
Amid heaps of the whitening bones of his prey.
His life-blood was wasting from many a wound;
Ferocious and gory and dying he lay,
Amid heaps of the whitening bones of his prey.
“So rapine and treason forever shall cease!”
The slain lamb is raised, a white angel of Peace!
Now Freedom may walk where the black jungle grew,
And all the glad valley shall blossom anew.
The slain lamb is raised, a white angel of Peace!
Now Freedom may walk where the black jungle grew,
And all the glad valley shall blossom anew.
| The poetical works of John Townsend Trowbridge | |