THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG
by: Laura Searing (Howard
Glyndon)
- HE days
of June were nearly done;
- The fields, with plenty overrun,
- Were ripening 'neath the harvest sun,
- In fruitful Pennsylviania!
-
- Sang birds and children, "All is well!"
- When, sudden, over hill and dell,
- The gloom of coming battle fell
- On peaceful Pennsylvania!
-
- Through Maryland's historic land,
- With boastful tongue, and spoiling hand,
- They burst--a fierce and famished band--
- Right into Pennsylvania!
-
- In Cumberland's romantic vale
- Was heard the plundered farmer's wail,
- And every mother's cheek was pale,
- In blooming Pennsylvania!
-
- With taunt and jeer, and shout and song,
- Through rustic towns they passed along--
- A confident and braggart throng--
- Through frightened Pennsylvania!
-
- The tidings startled hill and glen;
- Up sprang our hardy Northern men,
- And there was speedy travel then,
- All into Pennsylvania!
-
- The foe laughed out in open scorn;
- For "Union men were coward-born,"
- And then--they wanted all the corn
- That grew in Pennsylvania!
-
- It was the languid hour of noon,
- When all the birds were out of tune,
- And nature in a sultry swoon,
- In pleasant Pennsylvania;
-
- When, sudden o'er the slumbering plain,
- Red flashed the battle's fiery rain;
- The volleying cannon shook again
- The hills of Pennsylvania!
-
- Beneath that curse of iron hail,
- That threshed the plain with flashing flail,
- Well might the stoutest soldier quail,
- In echoing Pennsylvania!
-
- Then, like a sudden summer rain,
- Storm-driven o'er the darkened plain,
- They burst upon our ranks and main,
- In startled Pennsylvania;
-
- We felt the old ancestral thrill,
- From sire to son transmitted still,
- And fought for Freedom with a will,
- In pleasant Pennsylvania!
-
- The breathless shock--the maddened toil--
- The sudden clinch--the sharp recoil--
- And we were masters of the soil,
- In bloody Pennsylvania!
-
- To westward fell the beaten foe;
- The growl of battle, hoarse and low,
- Was heard anon, but dying slow,
- In ransomed Pennsylvania!
-
- Sou'-westward, with the sinking sun,
- The cloud of battle, dense and dun,
- Flashed into fire--and all was won
- In joyful Pennsylvania!
-
- But ah, the heaps of loyal slain!
- The bloody toil! the bitter pain!
- For those who shall not stand again
- In pleasant Pennsylvania!
-
- Back, through the verdant valley lands,
- Fast fled the foe, in frightened bands,
- With broken swords and empty hands,
- Out of fair Pennsylvania!
"The Battle of Gettysburg"
is reprinted from One Hundred Choice Selections. Ed. Phineas
Garrett. Philadelphia: Penn Publishing Co., 1897. |
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POEMS BY LAURA SEARING |
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