Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War | Page 6

is won,?The winter-fight for Donelson.
Hurrah!?The spell of old defeat is broke,?The Habit of victory begun;?Grant strikes the war's first sounding stroke
At Donelson.
For lists of killed and wounded, see?The morrow's dispatch: to-day 'tis victory._
The man who read this to the crowd?Shouted as the end he gained;?And though the unflagging tempest rained,?They answered him aloud.?And hand grasped hand, and glances met?In happy triumph; eyes grew wet.?O, to the punches brewed that night?Went little water. Windows bright?Beamed rosy on the sleet without,?And from the deep street came the frequent shout;?While some in prayer, as these in glee,?Blessed heaven for the winter-victory.
But others were who wakeful laid?In midnight beds, and early rose,?And, feverish in the foggy snows,?Snatched the damp paper--wife and maid.?The death-list like a river flows?Down the pale sheet,?And there the whelming waters meet.
Ah God! may Time with happy haste?Bring wail and triumph to a waste,?And war be done;?The battle flag-staff fall athwart?The curs'd ravine, and wither; naught?Be left of trench or gun;?The bastion, let it ebb away,?Washed with the river bed; and Day?In vain seek Donelson.
The Cumberland.?(March, 1862.)
Some names there are of telling sound,?Whose voweled syllables free?Are pledge that they shall ever live renowned;
Such seem to be?A Frigate's name (by present glory spanned)--
The Cumberland.
Sounding name as ere was sung,
Flowing, rolling on the tongue--
Cumberland! Cumberland!
She warred and sunk. There's no denying?That she was ended--quelled;?And yet her flag above her fate is flying,
As when it swelled?Unswallowed by the swallowing sea: so grand--
The Cumberland.
Goodly name as ere was sung,
Roundly rolling on the tongue--
Cumberland! Cumberland!
What need to tell how she was fought--?The sinking flaming gun--?The gunner leaping out the port--
Washed back, undone!?Her dead unconquerably manned
The Cumberland.
Noble name as ere was sung,
Slowly roll it on the tongue--
Cumberland! Cumberland!
Long as hearts shall share the flame?Which burned in that brave crew,?Her fame shall live--outlive the victor's name;
For this is due.?Your flag and flag-staff shall in story stand--
Cumberland!
Sounding name as ere was sung,
Long they'll roll it on the tongue--
Cumberland! Cumberland!
In the Turret.?(March, 1862.)
Your honest heart of duty, Worden,?So helped you that in fame you dwell;?You bore the first iron battle's burden?Sealed as in a diving-bell.?Alcides, groping into haunted hell?To bring forth King Admetus' bride,?Braved naught more vaguely direful and untried.?What poet shall uplift his charm,?Bold Sailor, to your height of daring,?And interblend therewith the calm,?And build a goodly style upon your bearing.
Escaped the gale of outer ocean--?Cribbed in a craft which like a log?Was washed by every billow's motion--?By night you heard of Og?The huge; nor felt your courage clog?At tokens of his onset grim:?You marked the sunk ship's flag-staff slim,?Lit by her burning sister's heart;?You marked, and mused: "Day brings the trial:?Then be it proved if I have part?With men whose manhood never took denial."
A prayer went up--a champion's. Morning?Beheld you in the Turret walled?by adamant, where a spirit forewarning?And all-deriding called:?"Man, darest thou--desperate, unappalled--?Be first to lock thee in the armored tower??I have thee now; and what the battle-hour?To me shall bring--heed well--thou'lt share;?This plot-work, planned to be the foeman's terror,?To thee may prove a goblin-snare;?Its very strength and cunning--monstrous error!"
"Stand up, my heart; be strong; what matter?If here thou seest thy welded tomb??And let huge Og with thunders batter--?Duty be still my doom,?Though drowning come in liquid gloom;?First duty, duty next, and duty last;?Ay, Turret, rivet me here to duty fast!--"?So nerved, you fought wisely and well;?And live, twice live in life and story;?But over your Monitor dirges swell,?In wind and wave that keep the rites of glory.
The Temeraire.[3]
_(Supposed to have been suggested to an Englishman of the old order by the fight of the Monitor and Merrimac.)_
The gloomy hulls, in armor grim,?Like clouds o'er moors have met,?And prove that oak, and iron, and man?Are tough in fibre yet.
But Splendors wane. The sea-fight yields?No front of old display;?The garniture, emblazonment,?And heraldry all decay.
Towering afar in parting light,?The fleets like Albion's forelands shine--?The full-sailed fleets, the shrouded show?Of Ships-of-the-Line.
The fighting Temeraire,?Built of a thousand trees,?Lunging out her lightnings,?And beetling o'er the seas--?O Ship, how