Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
III. WarCivil War
Charles Dawson Shanly (18111875)“R
Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette;
Ring me a ball in the glittering spot
That shines on his breast like an amulet!”
There ’s music around when my barrel ’s in tune!”
Crack! went the rifle, the messenger sped,
And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon.
From your victim some trinket to handsel first blood;
A button, a loop, or that luminous patch
That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud!”
When I gazed on the face of that fallen vidette,
For he looked so like you, as he lay on his back,
That my heart rose upon me, and masters me yet.
An inch from the centre my lead broke its way,
Scarce grazing the picture, so fair to behold,
Of a beautiful lady in bridal array.”
My brother’s young bride, and the fallen dragoon
Was her husband—Hush! soldier, ’t was Heaven’s decree,
We must bury him there, by the light of the moon!
War is a virtue,—weakness a sin;
There ’s a lurking and loping around us to-night,
Load again, rifleman, keep your hand in!”