UNTITLED
by Corporal Theodore P. Brokaw


Quietly lay that grand old corps,
    Waiting and watching its powerful foe;
Resolved, God's will, for evermore
    To crush foul treason and lay it low.

On the river banks the camps are strewn,
    The pickets are watching in the dawn's early light
For the first faint sound denoting that soon
    Come the clash and carnage of sabers bright.

Along those grand lines comes the command;
    Strike tents, pack up, prepare to march--
Forward gallant sons of freedom's band;
    Stand by your banners, never fail your hearts.

The foe has advanced away on our right,
    And down through the valley has moved
To battle again, with all his might,
    And spread the terror among those we love.

Across Virginia's devastated plain,
    Over Bull Run's blood stained ground,
They will hasten quickly to regain
    A firm hold on treason's crown.

Over the Potomac's historic stream,
    Through the Cumberland's beautiful vale,
It seems as though it was but a dream
    As they marched onward victory to hail.

Past Maryland Heights, Antietam's field,
    Forward, gallant comrades, ere you be too late
To strike down the doe and his cause seal
    And save our friends from a terrible fate.

Hark! do you hear that rumbling sound?
    See the curling smoke? 'tis the opening dirge
Preceding the fearful scenes at and around
    The grand, historic battle of Gettysburg.

From Round Top hear the deafening roar
    Re-echoed though the vale; the screaming shell,
And the clash of arms, the moans of brave men, torn
    And shattered, of this fearful struggle tell.

As shouts of victory from brave hearts leap,
    Give us tidings now of the battle won,
The heartfelt thanks of millions will greet
    Those brave men for the grand work done.

Is it wise to bury this bitter past,
    In oblivion, forgetful of the great sorrow,
This crime has to the nation caused, alas,
    Forget that men may do the same tomorrow?

Forget the mounds on yon hillside,
    Those brave hearts, cold and still forever,
The loved ones struggling their tears to hide?
    Forget all this my comrades? No, no, never!

Bury the past, my friends and comrades? No--
    Hang it high upon your banners that men may read,
And give full praise to those brave hearts and so
    That future generation may bear good seed.

The grand mirror that reflects so well the age
    Will do you honor that you did onward press,
And nobly bear your breasts to save
    Our loved Columbia in her great distress.

Battles