12. the battle at Bull Run.
by Ruth.
“Forward! my brave columns, forward!”No other word was spoken;
But in the quick, and mighty rustling of their feet,
And in the flashing of their eyes, 'twas proved
This was enough.
Men, whose every bosom held a noble heart,
And who had left their homes, their sacred rights
To gain: To these, this was no trying hour,
No time to waver, and to doubt — but one
For which they'd hoped and prayed--
One (as they felt) they'd brought not on
Themselves, but which they knew must come--
And nobly, O most nobly, did their
Bravery, their sense of right, sustain them.
And Lincoln's hordes--
They knew not with what natures they contended--
Seemed not to feel their motives differed, as
Does heaven from earth.
They, the poor, miserable, hired outcasts, whose
Principles were bought,
And men, whose courage, bravery, and noble aims
Had come to be, throughout the land,
A proverb.
And what the end?
What could, what should it be, than what it was?
A brilliant, glorious victory.
The South weeps o'er her slain;
And well she may; for they were jewels
From her diadem.
She weeps; sheds tears of grief, of sorrow,
And of pride.
Louisville, Ky., July 24, 1861.
--Louisville Courier, Aug. 10.
