Fredericksburg
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836
- 1907) |
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|
The increasing moonlight
drifts across my bed,
And on the churchyard by the road,
I know
It falls as white and noiselessly as snow.
'Twas such a night two weary summers fled;
The
stars, as now, were waning overhead.
Listen! Again the
shrill-lipped bugles blow
Where the swift currents of the
river flow
Past Fredericksburg: far off the heavens are
red
With sudden conflagration: on yon height,
Linstock in hand, the gunners hold their breath:
A
signal-rocket pierces the dense night,
Flings its spent
stars upon the town beneath:
Hark!--the artillery massing
on the right,
Hark!--the black squadrons wheeling down to
Death! |
By
Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836 - 1907)
Listed August 11, 2012 |
|
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