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THE VOLUNTEERS
by Lytle, William Haines [1826-1863]

The Volunteers! the Volunteers!
I dream, as in the by-gone years,
I hear again their stirring cheers,
And see their banners shine,
What time the yet unconquered North
Pours to the wars her legions forth,
For many a wrong to strike a blow
With mailèd hand at Mexico.
The Volunteers! Ah, where are they
Who bade the hostile surges stay,
When the black forts of Monterey
Frowned on their dauntless line?
When, undismayed amid the shock
Of war, like Cerro Gordo's rock,
They stood, or rushed more madly on
Than tropic tempest o'er San Juan?
On Angostura's crowded field
Their shattered columns scorned to yield,
And wildly yet defiance pealed
Their flashing batteries' throats;
And echoed then the rifle's crack,
As deadly as when on the track
Of flying foe, of yore, its voice
Bade Orleans' dark-eyed girls rejoice.
Blent with the roar of guns and bombs,
How grandly from the dim past comes
The roll of their victorious drums,
Their bugle's joyous notes,
When over Mexico's proud towers,
And the fair valley's storied bowers,
Fit recompense of toil and scars,
In triumph waved their flag of stars.
Ah, comrades, of your own tried troop,
Whose honor ne'er to shame might stoop,
Of lion heart and eagle swoop,
But you alone remain;
On all the rest has fallen the hush
Of death; the men whose battle-rush
Was wild as sun-loosed torrent's flow
From Orizaba's crest of snow.
The Volunteers! the Volunteers!
God send us peace through all our years,
But if the cloud of war appears,
We'll see them once again.
From broad Ohio's peaceful side,
From where the Maumee pours its tide,
From storm-lashed Erie's wintry shore,
Shall spring the Volunteers once more.
William Haines Lytle.

Source: Project Gutenberg

Source: Project Gutenberg