O, WHEN I stood before the tatter'd flag of Green's brigade, My heart beat martial music for the thoughts my spirit made. I saw the old-time flint-locks flash their deadly disks of flame, I cheered the old-time ragged lines that marched in Freedom's name, I wept o'er old-time gaping wounds in manly breasts displayed, And dying eyes that last looked on the flag of Green's brigade. O, when I stood before the faded flag of Green's brigade, I saw the blood of heroes in its every tint and shade. 'Neath Saratoga's steel-cold stars it led our charging line And hurled back Freedom's challenge from the guns of Brandywine, At Germantown and Kettle Creek and Camden's leaden rain— Till Yorktown found it torn and shorn but still without a stain! 'Twas this that led the tide that swept our craft from out the gloom And hung, like Hope's bright banner, o'er the portals of the tomb; And, flaming like a flambeau held in Victory's mailed hand, It blazed the way for brightest day throughout the struggling land. Around it flocked the Southron while the bright beams of his blade Gleamed out like stars of midnight 'round the flag of Green's brigade. O, as I stand before the faded flag of Green's brigade, Methinks I hear the thunder of the Future's cannonade! Methinks our lines are marching—marching to the same old call— And some are blue and some are gray—the old flag over all. And Gettysburg and Bull Run now have met, both undismayed, To fight their country's battles 'round the flag of Green's brigade. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW BACCALAUREATE by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH DOMESDAY BOOK: GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NIGHT AND DAY: 2 by ISAAC ROSENBERG |