...know- Oh, perfectly — but, then, As yet I find no flashing eyes; I hear no shouts that shake the skies. If it's a fact you mean to rise, Why don't you, now — why don't you rise, You Fifty Thousand Men? Hark! up along the mountain-side! Hark! down the distant glen! What sound is this that surges past? A war-whoop?-footsteps gathering fast? The echoes of the bugle blast? Perhaps &mdas...