Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/142

134 From frozen Maine they come,

Far Minnesota too;

They come to a sun whose rays disown—

May it wither them as the dew!

The ghosts of our slain appeal:

"Vain shall our victories be"

But back from its ebb the flood recoils—

Back in a whelming sea.

With burning woods our skies are brass,

The pillars of dust are seen;

The live-long day their cavalry pass—

No crossing the road between.

We were sore deceived—an awful host!

They move like a roaring wind.

Have we gamed and lost? but even despair

Shall never our hate rescind.