(一个浪漫。)1867年12月11日。羊毛状的云s had passed away Before the bright approach of day, And now the morning's radiance shines Upon an Army's order'd lines, And light the glancing sunbeams play'd On bayonet point and sabre-blade. Slow rolled the ponderous mass along ? A hundred thousand bayonets strong, And thirty thousand horses prance Impatient of the slow advance, While o'er those glittering groves of steel The striped and coloured spangles reel And Hail! Columbia! lofty notes Peel from the trumpets brazen throats. From post to post the generals ride. The army's steady march to guide, And aides fly swiftly o'er the plain With bloody spur and slacken'd rein; And far and wide on every side The hollow trembling earth replied To those grim legions measured stride On dark Virginia's shore ? And many a heart bounds high with pride That soon shall beat no more. The foe, of far inferior force, Scarce sixty thousand foot and horse, Stand watching with undaunted glance The Federal foeman's grim advance; And turn again their hopeful eyes To where their own loved banner flies ? That flag of tesselated bars, That on its checks bore seven white stars Which waved on many a field before But now, alas! is seen no more: Its short and bright career is o'er, Its light was quenched in streams of gore. Far on the left, where rank on rank, Kentucky's footmen held the flank, A youthful warrior rode alone, To every Southern soldier known, For that long falchion by his side Had turn'd the battle's doubtful tide In many a dark and desperate fight When right still triumphed over might. His simple dress, undeck'd with lace, Bore no brigade's distinctive trace ? 'Twas Booth, who long had vow'd to stand The Champion of his Fatherland; Unflinching, faithful, firm and fast, And strike for freedom to the last. He rode a horse of spotless white, With ample chest, and limbs of might ? That fiercely strains upon the reins As, slow advancing o'er the plains, He marks the Union ranks of grey And greets them with a furious neigh ? He lists the hollow thundering drum Which tells him that the time is come To charge these hostile columns home, And flashing flakes of feathery foam Fly from his chafing mouth. First in the charge's wild career, And in retreat the last in rear, And, first or last, unknowing fear, That noble beast had not his peer In all the spacious South. At once, on centre, left and right, The loud artillery woke the fight With round-shot, grape and shell ? And loud the cry of conflict rose As fiercely now the armies close And vain it were to tell How, charging on the cannon's mouth, The fiery soldiers of the South Were midway met in deadly strife, Where each man fought for death or life And thousands bled and fell. Before the Federals charged ? ere yet The heavy armed battalions met In conflict fierce and dire. While skirmishers in scatter'd rank, Extended far on front and flank, Maintained a dropping fire ? While every ear was bent to hear Their proud Commander's word. To bid them charge at full career With bayonet and sword. Booth calmly watched their threatening course And sternly reined his furious horse. But when the opening cannon rung And bugles blew and charged aloud, His weapon from the scabbard sprung Like lightning from the thunder-cloud ? And where the bayonets reddest shine Along the Federals'charging line ? Where wounded horses wildly leap Through pools of life-blood fetlock deep ? There his gigantic battle-horse Swept onward in resistless course. Round his invulnerable head His reeking crescent blade, Still scattering drops of crimson red, In lightning circles played. Through fire and smoke the war horse dash'd Unharm'd by shot or shell, And where that falling weapon flash'd A Federal soldier fell. But Lee, who mark'd with eagle glance The Federals'last reserve advance, Call'd up his veterans grim and grey, The flower of Southern infantry ? Down where the dark palmettos wave Ten thousand Carolinians brave Their double column shows ? Each moment fringed their ranks with flame, And fast the withering volleys came Against their flinching foes, And through the batteries of the North Their fatal welcome thunder'd forth In showers of iron rain. Still fiercer rose their music's swell And wilder pealed their battle-yell, While fast and faster still they fell As whistling shot and shrieking shell Clove many a ghastly lane ? And thicker still their bullets came, And closer deadlier grew their aim, The Federal lines were heaped with dead And fast the rising panic spread Along their w