Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/93

GETTYSBURG They whirl fierce Ewell from their front! Now we of the Second pray,

As right and left the brunt have borne, the centre might to-day.

But all was still from hill to hill for many a breathless hour,

While for the coming battle-shock Lee gathered in his power;

And back and forth our leaders rode, who knew not rest or fear,

And along the lines, where'er they came, went up the ringing cheer.

'T was past the hour of nooning; the Summer skies were blue;

Behind the covering timber the foe was hid from view;

So fair and sweet with waving wheat the pleasant valley lay,

It brought to mind our Northern homes and meadows far away;

When the whole western ridge at once was fringed with fire and smoke;

Against our lines from sevenscore guns the dreadful tempest broke!

Then loud our batteries answer, and far along the crest,

And to and fro the roaring bolts are driven east and west;

Heavy and dark around us glooms the stifling sulphur-cloud,

And the cries of mangled men and horse go up beneath its shroud.

The guns are still: the end is nigh: we grasp our arms anew;

O now let every heart be stanch and every aim be true!

For look! from yonder wood that skirts the valley's further marge,

The flower of all the Southern host move to the final charge. 63