Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862], by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862], by             Poet's Biography
First Line: So that soldierly legend is still on its journey
Last Line: Line.
Subject(s): American Civil War; Holidays; Kearny, Philip (1814-1862); Memorial Day; Patriotism; Seven Pines, Battle Of (1862); United States - History; Declaration Day; Fair Oaks, Battle Of (1862)


So that soldierly legend is still on its journey, --
That story of Kearny who knew not to yield!
'T was the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry,
and Birney,
Against twenty thousand he rallied the field.
Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor
rose highest,
Where the dead lay in clumps through the
dwarf oak and pine,
Where the aim from the thicket was surest and
nighest, --
No charge like Phil Kearny's along the whole
line.

When the battle went ill, and the bravest were
solemn,
Near the dark Seven Pines, where we still held
our ground,
He rode down the length of the withering column,
And his heart at our war-cry leapt up with a
bound;
He snuffed, like his charger, the wind of the pow-
der, --
His sword waved us on and we answered the
sign:
Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang
the louder
"There's the devil's own fun, boys, along the
whole line!"

How he strode his brown steed! how we saw
his blade brighten
In the one hand still left, -- and the reins in his
teeth!
He laughed like a boy when the holidays
heighten,
But a soldier's glance shot from his visor be-
neath.
Up came the reserves to the mellay infernal,
Asking where to go in, -- through the clearing
or pine?
"O, anywhere! Forward! 'T is all the same,
Colonel:
You'll find lovely fighting along the whole
line!"

O, evil the black shroud of night at Chantilly,
That hid him from sight of his brave men and
tried!
Foul, foul sped the bullet that clipped the white
lily,
The flower of our knighthood, the whole army's
pride!
Yet we dream that he still,-- in that shadowy
region
Where the dead form their ranks at the wan
drummer's sign, --
Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion,
And the word still is Forward! along the whole
line.




Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net