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57. | 57. March!
By BAYARD TAYLOR (1862) |
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![]() | The Romance of the Civil War | ![]() |
57. March!
By BAYARD TAYLOR (1862)
WITH rushing winds and gloomy skies
The dark and stubborn Winter dies;
Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,
Bidding her earliest child arise:
March!
The dark and stubborn Winter dies;
Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,
Bidding her earliest child arise:
March!
By streams still held in icy snare,
On Southern hill-sides, melting bare,
O'er fields that motley colors wear,
That summons fills the changeful air:
March!
On Southern hill-sides, melting bare,
O'er fields that motley colors wear,
That summons fills the changeful air:
March!
What though conflicting seasons make
Thy days their field, they woo or shake
The sleeping lids of Life awake,
And Hope is stronger for thy sake:
March!
Thy days their field, they woo or shake
The sleeping lids of Life awake,
And Hope is stronger for thy sake:
March!
Then from thy mountains, ribbed with snow,
Once more thy rousing bugle blow,
And East and West, and to and fro,
Proclaim thy coming to the foe:
March!
Once more thy rousing bugle blow,
220
Proclaim thy coming to the foe:
March!
Say to the picket, chilled and numb,
Say to the camp's impatient hum,
Say to the trumpet and the drum:
Lift up your hearts, I come, I come!
March!
Say to the camp's impatient hum,
Say to the trumpet and the drum:
Lift up your hearts, I come, I come!
March!
Cry to the waiting hosts that stray
On sandy sea-sides far away,
By marshy isle and gleaming bay,
Where Southern March is Northern May:
March!
On sandy sea-sides far away,
By marshy isle and gleaming bay,
Where Southern March is Northern May:
March!
Announce thyself with welcome noise,
Where Glory's victoreagles poise
Above the proud, heroic boys
Of Iowa and Illinois:
March!
Where Glory's victoreagles poise
Above the proud, heroic boys
Of Iowa and Illinois:
March!
Then down the long Potomac's line
Shout like a storm on hills of pine,
Till ramrods ring and bayonets shine,
"Advance! the Chieftain's call is mine:
"MARCH! "
Shout like a storm on hills of pine,
Till ramrods ring and bayonets shine,
"Advance! the Chieftain's call is mine:
"MARCH! "
![]() | The Romance of the Civil War | ![]() |