 | Collected poems of Herman Melville |  |
VICTORY!
Our troops have retrieved the dayBy one grand surge along the line;
The spirit that urged them was divine.
The first works flooded, naught could stay
The stormers: on! still on!
Bayonets for Donelson!
Over the ground that morning lost
Rolled the blue billows, tempest-tossed,
Following a hat on the point of a sword.
Spite shell and round-shot, grape and canister,
Up they climbed without rail or banister—
Up the steep hill-sides long and broad,
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'Tis nightfall; not an enemy lurks
In sight. The chafing men
Fret for more fight:
“To-night, to-night let us take the Den!”
But night is treacherous, Grant is wary;
Of brave blood be a little chary.
Patience! The Fort is good as won;
To-morrow, and into Donelson.
| Collected poems of Herman Melville | |