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204

THE TWO SHARPSHOOTERS.

BATTLE OF HUTTONSVILLE, W. VA., JANUARY 4TH, '62.

Two men went out from the fire-lit camp
In the autumn midnight gray;
Over the quaking, croaking swamp
To the edge of the woodland still and damp,
With rifle and spade went they.
A hunting owl wailed out to its young,
And the picket stood as still
In the meadow below as the shadows flung
By the beaded tent-lights thickly strung
On the silver-threaded rill.
'Twas long ere the picket moved away,
And there was no time to lose;
The pits must be dug by dawn of day:
Said one, “We are digging graves, I say;”
And the other whispered, “Whose?”
With the morning light a column of steel
Moved upward along the hill
Toward the hidden pits, but a double peal
Close in the front made the column reel
A moment, and then stand still.
The check won a battle-field that day;
On the morrow the dead were laid
Head to foot in a trench of clay;
But two apart in the front that lay
Were buried without a spade.
W. H. LONGFELLOW.