An Army on the March
AN ARMY ON THE MARCH.
WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance, With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip,and now an irregular volley, The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades
press on; Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun, the dust-cover'd men, In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground, With artillery interspers'd—the wheels rumble, the horses
sweat, As the army resistless advances.