...ade! Hill's at the ford, cut off. We'll win His way out, ball and blade. What matter if our shoes are worn? What matter if our feet are torn? Quick step! We're with him before dawn. That's Stonewall Jackson 's way. The sun's bright lances rout the mists Of morning; and, by George! Here's Longstreet struggling in the lists, Hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his Yankees whipped before, ‘Bayone...