Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GUNS IN THE GRASS [MAY 8, 1846], by THOMAS FROST First Line: As hang two mighty thunderclouds Last Line: We battle -- and the field is won! Subject(s): Palo Alto, Battle Of (1846); Taylor, Zachary (1784-1850); United States - Mexican War (1846-1848) | ||||||||
As hang two mighty thunderclouds Ere lightnings link the twain, So lie we and the Mexican On Palo Alto plain; And silence, solemn, dread, profound, Broods o'er the waiting battle-ground. We see the foeman's musketeers Deployed upon his right, And on his left the cavalry Stand, hungry for the fight; But that blank centre -- what? Alas 'T is hidden by the prairie grass! Old Rough and Ready scans the foe; "I would I knew," says he, "Whether or no that lofty grass Conceals artillery. Could I but bring that spot in ken, 'T were worth to me five thousand men!" Then forward steps Lieutenant Blake, Touches his hat, and says, "I wait command to ride and see What 'neath that prairie lays." We stand amazed: no cowards, we: But this is more than bravery! "'Command'!" cries Taylor; "nay, I ne'er To such a deed 'command!'" Then bends he o'er his horse's neck And takes as brave a hand As e'er a loyal sabre bore: "God bless you, Blake," he says -- no more. The soldier to his saddle springs And gayly waves good-by, Determination on his lips, A proud light in his eye: And then, as pity holds our breath, We see him dare that road of death. To utmost pace his steed he spurs. Save that his sword hangs free, It were as though a madman charged A nation's chivalry! On, on, he flies, his steed unreined Till yonder hillock's crest is gained. And now he checks his horse, dismounts, And coolly through his glass Surveys the phalanx of the foe That lies beyond the grass. A musket-flash! They move! Advance! Halt! -- 't was the sunlight on a lance! He turns, remounts, and speeds him back. Hark! what is that we hear? Across the rolling prairie rings -- A gun? ah, no -- a cheer! A noble tribute sweeps the plain: A thousand throats take up the strain. Safe! But the secret to unveil Taylor no longer seeks; For with a roar that shakes the earth That unmasked centre speaks! 'Gainst fearful odds, till set of sun, We battle -- and the field is won! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTOR GALBRAITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD by THEODORE O'HARA THE ANGELS OF BUENA VISTA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE CRISIS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE BATTLE OF THE KING'S MILL [SEPTEMBER 8, 1847] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH MY WIFE AND CHILD by HENRY R. JACKSON ILLUMINATION FOR VICTORIES IN MEXICO by SARA JANE CLARKE LIPPINCOTT THE DEATH OF COLMAN by THOMAS FROST THE VIOLET by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |
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