Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ODE (IN HONOR OF THE BRAVERY AND SACRIFICES OF SOLDIERS OF THE SOUTH), by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: With bayonets slanted in the glittering sun Last Line: Across those lonely desolated graves! Subject(s): American Civil War; Confederate States Of America; Courage; Soldiers; United States - History; Confederacy; Valor; Bravery | ||||||||
WITH bayonets slanted in the glittering light, With solemn roll of drums, With star-lit banners rustling wings of might, The knightly concourse comes! The flower and fruit of all the tropic lands, The unsheathed brightness of their stainless brands Blazing in courtly hands, One glorious soul within those thousand eyes, One aim, one hope, one impulse from the skies, While silent, awed and dumb, A nation waits the end in dread surmise, They come! they come! The summer flaunts her vivid leaves above The unwonted scene, The summer heavens embrace with smiles of love The hill-slopes green; Far in the uppermost realms of silent air Peace sits enthroned and happy, but on earth The cymbals clash, and the shrill trumpets blare, And Death, like some grim mower on the plain, Topped by the ripened grain, Whets his keen scythe, and shakes it fearfully! Our serried lines march sternly to the front, Where decked as if they rose to celebrate A joyous festal morn, In glistening pomp and splendid blazonry, Slow moving as in scorn Of those weak bands that guard the pass below, Come gorgeous, flushed and proud, the cohorts of the foe! They wheel! deploy, are stationed, down the cleft Of the long gorge their signal thunders run! A sullen answer echoes from our left And the great fight's begun! O! who shall picture the immortal fray? Our Southern host that day Breasted the onset of the invading sea With wills of adamant; but sternweighted strength, Like waves by some infernal alchemy Hardened, transformed to solid metal, burning At white heat as they struck, and aye returning Hotter and more resistless than before (All flecked atop with foam of human gore), Pierced here and there our crumbling ranks at length, Which as a mountain shore, Rock-ribbed and iron founded, still had stood, And outward hurled In bloody sprayings, that tremendous flood Which, with wild charge and furious brunt on brunt, Had dashed against us like a fiery world! Unceasing still poured on the fateful tide, And plumed victory ever seemed to ride On the red billows of the northland war! Our glory and pride Had fallen, -- fallen in the terrible van, -- Like wine the life-streams ran; "Back! back!" cried one (it was the voice of Bee, Lifted in wrath and bitter agony), "We're driven backward!" unto whom there came An answer, like the rush of steady flame, 'Twixt ribs of iron, "We will give them yet The bayonet! The sharp edge of the Southern bayonet!" At which the other's face flushed up, and caught Light like a warrior-angel's, and he sprang To the front rank, while swift as passionate thought Leaped forth his sword, and this high summons rang: "See! see! where fixed and grand, Like a stone wall the braves of Jackson stand! Forward!" and on he rushed with quivering breath, On to his Spartan death! Unceasing still poured down the fateful tide, And plumed victory ever seemed to ride O'er the red billows of the northland war! When faint and far, Far on our left there rose a sound that thrilled All souls, and even the battle's thunderous pulse (Or so we deemed) for briefest space was stilled; A sound, low hissing as a meteor-star, But gathering depth of volume, till it burst In one great flamelike cheer, That seemed to rend and lift the cloud accurst, The poisonous-clinging cloud That wrapped us in its shroud, While wounded men leaped on their feet to hear, And dying men upraised their eyes to see How on the conflict's lowering canopy, Dawned the first rainbow hues of victory! Have you watched the condor leap From his proud Andean rock, And with hurtling pinions sweep On the valley-pasturing flock? Have you watched an eygre vast On the rude September blast Roll adown with curved crest O'er the low sands of the West? O! thus and thus they came (Four thousand men and more), Hearts, faces, -- all aflame, And the grandeur of their wrath Whirled the tyrant from their path As the frightened rack is driven By the unleashed winds in heaven; Then, maddened, tossed about In a reckless, hopeless rout, The Northern army fled O'er their dying and their dead, And the Southern steel flashed out, And their vengeful points were red With the hot heart's tide that flowed Where they sabred as they rode! And the news sped on apace (Where the Rulers, in their place, Sat jubilant, one and all), Till a shadow seemed to fall Round their joyance like a pall, And the inmost senate-hall Pealed an echo of disgrace! At the set of July's sun They stood quivering and undone, For the eagle standards waned and the Southern "stars" had won! Thus loomed serene and large Upon that desperate contest's lurid marge Our orb of destiny; millions of hearts Throb with bold exultation, Till there starts From mountain fastness, and from waving plain, From wooded swamp and mist-encircled main, From hamlet, city, field, And the rich midland weald, The spirit of the antique hero time! O! 'twas a sight sublime To watch the upheaval of the popular soul, The stormy gathering, -- the majestic roll Upward of its wild forces, by the awe Of Right and Justice steadied into law! Faith lent our cause its heavenly consecration! Hope its omnipotent might! And Fame stood ready, with her flowers of light, To crown alike the living and the dead, While in the broadening firmament o'erhead We seemed to read the fiat of our fate, "Ye are baptized, -- a Nation! Amongst the freest, free, -- amongst the mightiest, great!" An ominous hush! and then the scattered clouds In the dark northern heaven (Clouds of a deadlier strife), Urged by the poison wind Of rage and rapine, sullenly combined, Charged with the bolts of ruin! what were shrouds, Crimsoned with gore? the widowed spirit riven? The desecration of God's gift of life, To that one thought (three fiery strands uniting, Hot from a Hadean loom), "Conquest!" "Revenge!" Supremacy?" The blighting Of untold promises, the grief, the gloom, The desolate madness and the anguish blind, All spreading on and on From murdered sire to subjugated son, Were less than nothing to the arrogant pride Which treaties, compacts, honor, laws defied, And aimed above the wrecks of temple and tower To rear the symbols of its merciless power! Four deadly years we fought, Ringed by a girdle of unfaltering fire, That coiled and hissed in lessening circles nigher. Blood dyed the Southern wave; From ocean border to calm inland river, There was no pause, no peace, no respite ever. Blood of our bravest brave Drenched in a scarlet rain the western lea, Swelled the hoarse waters of the Tennessee, Incarnadined the gulfs, the lakes, the rills, And from a hundred hills Steamed in a mist of slaughter to the skies, Shutting all hope of heaven from mortal eyes. The Beaufort blooms were withered on the stem; The fair gulf city in a single night Lost her imperial diadem; And wheresoe'er men's troubled vision sought, They viewed MIGHT towering o'er the humbled crest of RIGHT! But for a time, but for a time, O God! The innate forces of our knightly blood Rallied, and by the mount, the fen, the flood, Upraised the tottering standards of our race. O grand Virginia! though thy glittering glaive Lies sullied, shattered in a ruthless grave, How it flashed once! They dug their trenches deep (The implacable foe), they ranged their lines of wrath; But watchful ever on the imminent path Thy steel-clad genius stood; North, South, East, West, -- they strove to pierce thy shield; Thou would'st not yield! Until, -- unconquered, yea, unconquered still, Nature's weakened forces answered not thy will, And gored with wound on wound, Thy fainting limbs and forehead sought the ground; And with thee the young nation fell, a pall Solemn and rayless, covering one and all! God's ways are marvellous; here we stand to-day Discrowned, and shorn, in wildest disarray, The mock of earth! yet never shone the sun On sterner deeds, or nobler victories won. Not in the field alone; ah, come with me To the dim bivouac by the winter's sea; Mark the fair sons of courtly mothers crouch O'er flickering fires; but gallant still, and gay As on some bright parade; or mark the couch In reeking hospitals, whereon is laid The latest scion of a line perchance, Whose veins were royal; close your blurred romance, Blurred by the dropping of a maudlin tear, And watch the manhood here; That firm but delicate countenance, Distorted sometimes by an awful pang, Born in meek patience; when the trumpets rang "To horse!" but yester-morn, that ardent boy Sprung to his charger, thrilled with hope and joy To the very finger-tips, and now he lies, The shadows deepening in those falcon eyes, But calm and undismayed, As if the death that chills him, brow and breast, Were some fond bride who whispered, "Let us rest!" Enough! 'tis over! the last gleam of hope Hath melted from our mournful horoscope, Of all, of all bereft, Only to us are left Our buried heroes and their matchless deeds; These cannot pass; they hold the vital seeds Which in some far, untracked, unvisioned hour May burst to vivid bud and glorious flower. Meanwhile, upon the nation's broken heart Her martyrs sleep. O! dearer far to her, Than if each son, a wreathed conqueror, Rode in triumphant state The loftiest crest of fate; O! dearer far, because outcast and low, She yearns above them in her awful woe. One spring its tender blooms Hath lavished richly by those hallowed tombs; One summer its imperial largess spread Along our heroes' bed; One autumn wailing with funereal blast, The withered leaves and pallid dust amassed All round about them, till bleak winter now Hangs hoar-frost on the grasses, and the bough In dreary woodlands seems to thrill and start, Thrill to the anguish of the wind that raves Across those lonely desolated graves! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNLESS IT WAS COURAGE by MARVIN BELL THE QUALITY OF COURAGE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET ON THE OREGON COAST; FOR WILLIAM STAFFORD by ROBERT BLY WORDS WITH WALLACE STEVENS by ROBERT BLY BUFFALO CLOUDS OVER THE MAESTRO HOON by NORMAN DUBIE A SONG OF COURAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE AUDACIOUS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OH, THE WATER by DORIANNE LAUX A STORM IN THE DISTANCE (AMONG THE GEORGIAN HILLS) by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE |
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