Houston.
The victory is ours! on every side
The enemy are fleeing in dismay,
Hotly pursued by our brave volunteers.
But as the night is settling fast and swamps
Hedge in the enemy beyond escape,
I deem it wise to end this day's exploits.
So, Burleson! go, make this will of mine
Beknown unto the several commanders,
That here we'll make our camp-stead for the night,
Where I await their presence and reports.
Sweetest a victor sleeps upon the field
Which heard his shout and saw his gallant deed.
Come, Smith; come. Surgeon! let us choose our seats
On yonder gun, to bide our friends' return.
But see, who lies here dead. 'T is Colonel Bradburn!
[Houston takes a seat of a gun-carriage, while the Surgeon bandages his foot.]
Deaf Smith.
Yes, General, it is he! Upon this spot
He fell and died, pierced by a musket-ball.
When formed our men in line, we took our stand
Upon the right of Sherman's regiment.
Advancing silently at the command,
With every step the Colonel seemed to tower
