Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/46

38 Gained the fort's base, and marked the trees

Felled, heaped in horned perplexities,

And shagged with brush; and swarming there

Fierce wasps whose sting was present death—

They faltered, drawing bated breath,

And felt it was in vain to dare;

Yet still, perforce, returned the ball,

Firing into the tangled wall

Till ordered to come down. They came;

But left some comrades in their fame,

Red on the ridge in icy wreath

And hanging gardens of cold Death.

But not quite unavenged these fell;

Our ranks once out of range, a blast

Of shrapnel and quick shell

Burst on the rebel horde, still massed,

Scattering them pell-mell.

(This fighting—judging what we read—

Both charge and countercharge,

Would seem but Thursday's told at large,

Before in brief reported.—Ed.)

Night closed in about the Den

Murky and lowering. Ere long, chill rains.

A night not soon to be forgot,

Reviving old rheumatic pains

And longings for a cot.