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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BATTLE OF BRIDGEWATER, by ANONYMOUS First Line: O'er huron's wave the sun was low Last Line: "such dismal night, such heaps of slain, / foe mixed with foe promiscuously" Subject(s): "lundy's Lane, Battle Of;war Of 1812 - Canadian Campaign; | |||
O'ER Huron's wave the sun was low, The weary soldier watch'd the bow Fast fading from the cloud below The dashing of Niagara. And while the phantom chain'd his sight Ah! little thought he of the fight -- The horrors of the dreamless night, That posted on so rapidly. Soon, soon is fled each softer charm; The drum and trumpet sound alarm, And bid each warrior nerve his arm For boldest deeds of chivalry; The burning red-cross, waving high, Like meteor in the evening sky, Proclaims the haughty foemen nigh To try the strife of rivalry. Columbia's banner floats as proud, Her gallant band around it crowd, And swear to guard or make their shroud The starred flag of liberty. "Haste, haste thee, Scott, to meet the foe, And let the scornful Briton know, Well strung the arm and firm the blow Of him who strikes for liberty." Loud, loud, the din of battle rings, Shrill through the ranks the bullet sings, And onward fierce each foeman springs To meet his peer in gallantry. Behind the hills descends the sun, The work of death is but begun, And red through twilight's shadows dun Blazes the vollied musketry. "Charge, Miller, charge the foe once more," And louder than Niagara's roar Along the line is heard, encore, "On, on to death or victory." From line to line, with lurid glow, High arching shoots the rocket's bow, And lights the mingled scene below Of carnage, death, and misery. The middle watch has now begun, The horrid battle-fray is done, No longer beats the furious drum, To death, to death or victory. All, all is still -- with silent tread The watchman steals among the dead, To guard his comrade's lowly bed, Till morning give him sepulture. Low in the west, of splendor shorn, The midnight moon with bloody horn Sheds her last beam on him, forlorn, Who fell in fight so gloriously; Oh! long her crescent wax and wane Ere she behold such fray again, Such dismal night, such heaps of slain, Foe mix'd with foe promiscuously. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SITTING BULL IN SERBIA by WILLIAM JAY SMITH TO THE EXCELLENT ORINDA by PHILO PHILIPPA EPIGRAM OCCASIONED BY CIBBER'S VERSES IN PRAISE OF NASH: 1 by ALEXANDER POPE THE GIFT OF THE GODS by JOHN GODFREY SAXE TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH by ALFRED TENNYSON BEAU NASH by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER BEAU NASH AND THE ROMAN, OR THE TWO ERAS by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS |
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