Hurrah!
by Alfred B. Street.
Vicksburgh is ours, Hurrah!Treachery cowers, Hurrah!
Down reels the rebel rag!
Up shoots the starry flag!
High, like a beaconed crag,
Let its light flash around
All through the Union's bound!
Flash, till the welkin gleams!
Flash, till the hills and streams,
Cities and hamlets, throw
Back a responsive glow!
Let the red rocket soar!
Let the deep cannon roar!
Bonfires their torrents pour!
Let the bells o'er and o'er
Clang the joy, peal the glee,
Waking one jubilee!
While the heart sends the shout,
Lengthening in thunder out,
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Yicksburgh is ours, Hurrah!
Rain the wreathed flowers, Hurrah!
Where the great river-band
Links the bright States that stand
Filling the valley grand,
See now that mighty land,
Stretching out either hand,
From where his river flows,
Out of its urn of snows
To the perennial rose!
Never to know again
On its free wave a chain;
But, while the waters wind,
Know them a bond to bind
Firm the great Union: shout
All the broad Nation then!
Let the joy ring about,
So to be known of men
Wherever men shall see
Glory in Liberty.
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Vicksburgh is ours, Hurrah!
Arch the green bowers, Hurrah!
Arch o'er the hero, who
Nearer and nearer drew,
Letting wise patience sway,
Till, from his brave delay,
Swift as the lightning's ray,
Bounded he to the fray
Full on his fated prey;
Thundering upon his path,
Swerving not, pausing not,
Darting steel, raining shot,
In his fierce onset, hot
With his red battle-wrath;
Flashing on, thundering on;
Pausing then once again,
Curbing with mighty rein,
All his great heart, as vain
Writhed the fierce foe, the chain
Tighter and tighter wound-Till the reward was found,
Till the dread work was done,
Till the grand wreath was won.
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Haughty Lee cowers, Hurrah!
Doubt no more lowers, Hurrah!
Swell the full pean shout
Over the rebel rout!
Over the traitor horde
In our free valleys poured!
Coming with sworded might
All the wide North to smite;
Coming with blazing torch
All her green fields to scorch;
Fleeing now, scathed and broke,
At the red lightning-stroke
Liberty wrathful woke;
Reeling in dazzled flight
At the grand sunburst light
Liberty woke to sight.
Bells ring out! banners fly!
Festal flames seek the sky!
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Haughty Lee cowers, Hurrah!
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Arch too his sweeping way,
He who in full array
Sprang from bright Fortune's head
Armed for the conflict dread,
Armed in proud freedom's right,
Hurling his martial might
On the foe's serried files; [54]
Once, twice, and thrice the fight
Hurling; red battle-piles,
Torn in his mighty wrath,
Heaping his thunder-path.
Smiting on, smiting on,
Till the fierce field was won;
And the foe, wild with fear,
Plunged in his back career,
Wild for the river near,
Wild to hide there the drear
Change from the onset, bright
With his hope's fickle light;
Triumph is ours, Hurrah!
Victory ours, Hurrah!
Proudly Meade towers, Hurrah!
Banks, too, whose starry brain
Shines over'war's domain
Bright as in civic reign;
Who, with unyielding strain,
Rent the Port Hudson chain,
Last of the bonds that vain
Flung the mad foe across
Mississippi's mighty path.
Have ye seen torrents toss
Off their ice-bands in wrath?
So, when the moment came,
Did the strong River claim
All his grand liberty.
Fools, did ye deem to see
Fettered the Conqueror?
He whose majestic sweep
Holds the world's climates! Soar,
Eagle, in rapture! leap
Echoes, as high and bold,
All round the shout is rolled!
As on each roof and hold
Banners from every fold
Flash joy in sunny gold.
As in tones uncontrolled,
Still is the gladness told,
Shouted o'er wood and wold,
In the bell's music knolled,
Vicksburgh is ours, Hurrah!
The valley is ours, Hurrah!
Grant, Banks, and Meade ours, Hurrah!
