July 21, 1861.
By CATHERINE M. WARFIELD.
Theyhave met at last—as storm-cloudsMeet in heaven,And the Northmen back and bleedingHave been driven:And their thunders have been stilled,And their leaders crushed or killed,And their ranks with terror thrilled,Rent and riven!Like the leaves of VallambrosaThey are lying;In the moonlight, in the midnight,Dead and dying:Like those leaves before the gale,Swept their legions, wild and pale;While the host that made them quailStood, defying.When aloft in morning sunlightFlags were flaunted,And "swift vengeance on the rebel"Proudly vaunted:Little did they think that nightShould close upon their shameful flight,And rebels, victors in the fight,Stand undaunted.But peace to those who perishedIn our passes!Light be the earth above them;Green the grasses!Long shall Northmen rue the dayWhen they met our stern array,And shrunk from battle's wild affrayAt Manassas.
Theyhave met at last—as storm-cloudsMeet in heaven,And the Northmen back and bleedingHave been driven:And their thunders have been stilled,And their leaders crushed or killed,And their ranks with terror thrilled,Rent and riven!
Like the leaves of VallambrosaThey are lying;In the moonlight, in the midnight,Dead and dying:Like those leaves before the gale,Swept their legions, wild and pale;While the host that made them quailStood, defying.
When aloft in morning sunlightFlags were flaunted,And "swift vengeance on the rebel"Proudly vaunted:Little did they think that nightShould close upon their shameful flight,And rebels, victors in the fight,Stand undaunted.
But peace to those who perishedIn our passes!Light be the earth above them;Green the grasses!Long shall Northmen rue the dayWhen they met our stern array,And shrunk from battle's wild affrayAt Manassas.
(Southern.)