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[36] No faint breath has caused this motion,
     No faint ripple raised this storm;
But like tempest o'er the ocean--
     In the summer, calm and warm--

We have listened to the muttering
     Of the thunder in the sky,
Till at length its mighty uttering
     Is the battle's wildest cry.

Stormy clouds, of blackest error,
     Drove along this battle-car,
Freighted it with bloody terror,
     And plunged us in this fearful war.

Rain of lead we know will rattle,
     Steel will flash, and blood will flow,
Cannon thunder through the battle,
     And its ending none can know.

Yes! there is a glorious lightness
     In the soldier's scarlet shroud;
History touches it with brightness;
     Fame will sound his requiem loud,

Lasting as the long forever,
     Reaching ages as they come,
Telling round the fireside, ever,
     How he died defending home.

--N. O. Picayune.

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