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THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN.
Ten thousand Rebels, left and right, there closer, closer plant them;But Geary's ranks are grand in fight, and Howard's—who shall daunt them?
Press on, press on, rebellious horde! meet death and dark disasters!The drops that stain a Northman's sword free slaves from scourging masters.Press on, press on! bring all your guns—load well and aim discreetly:Yet know One sides with Freedom's sons whose judgments follow fleetly.
Line crowding line, rank urging rank, steel pressed to hearts unshielded:An instant's hush from flank to flank—and God his bolt has wielded!A subtle thrill, a blanching dread—skies bowed, earth quaking under—And all the traitorous files are shred, are rent, are hewn asunder!
Ah, Longstreet left his lair at night, no servile cohorts lacking;But by their gore his backward flight the scout, at morn, was tracking.
