WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long,And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the va- cant midnight passes,And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my infant,There in the room, as I wake from sleep, this vision presses upon me:The engagement opens there and then, in fantasy unreal;The skirmishers begin—they crawl cautiously ahead— I hear the irregular snap! snap!I hear the sounds of the different missiles—the short t-h-t! t-h-t! of the rifle balls;I see the shells exploding, leaving small white clouds— I hear the great shells shieking as they pass;The grape, like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, (quick, tumultuous, now the contest rages!)All the scenes at the batteries themselves rise in detail before me again;The crashing and smoking—the pride of the men in their pieces;The chief gunner ranges and sights his piece, and se- lects a fuse of the right time;After firing, I see him lean aside, and look eagerly off to note the effect;—Elsewhere I hear the cry of a regiment charging— (the young colonel leads himself this time, with brandish'd sword;)I see the gaps cut by the enemy's volleys, (quickly fill'd up, no delay;)
[ begin page 294 ]ppp.00270.296.jpgI breathe the suffocating smoke—then the flat clouds hover low, concealing all;Now a strange lull comes for a few seconds, not a shot fired on either side;Then resumed, the chaos louder than ever, with eager calls, and orders of officers;While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my ears a shout of applause, (some special success;)And ever the sound of the cannon, far or near, (rousing, even in dreams, a devilish exultation, and all the old mad joy, in the depths of my soul;)And ever the hastening of infantry shifting positions— batteries, cavalry, moving hither and thither;(The falling, dying, I heed not—the wounded, dripping and red, I heed not—some to the rear are hob- bling;)Grime, heat, rush—aid-de-camps galloping by, or on a full run;With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles, (these in my vision I hear or see,)And bombs bursting in air, and at night the vari- color'd rockets.