 | The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman |  |
8
“Yes, they too had their say before they fled,And the loss of our Colonel is worse than all the rest.
One of their captains aimed at him, as he led
The foremost charge—I shot the rascal dead,
But the Colonel fell, with a bullet through his breast.
We lifted him from the mire, when the field was won,
And their captured colors shaded him from the sun
In the farmer's wagon we took for his homeward ride;
But he never said a word, nor opened his eyes,
Till we reached the camp. In yon hospital tent he lies,
And his poor young wife will come to watch by his side.
The surgeon has n't found the bullet, as yet,
But he says it 's a mortal wound. Where will you get
Another such man to lead us, if he dies?”
| The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman | |