Battle of Oriskany
by Charles D. Helmer�(1827�1879) |
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AS men who fight for home and child and wife,
As men
oblivious of life
In holy martyrdom,
The yeomen of the
Valley fought that day,
Throughout thy fierce and deadly
fray,�
Blood-red Oriskany.
From rock and tree and
clump of twisted brush
The hissing gusts of battle rush,�
Hot-breathed and horrible!
The roar, the smoke, like mist
on stormy seas,
Sweep through thy splintered trees,�
Hard-fought Oriskany.
Heroes are born in such a
chosen hour;
From common men they rise, and tower,
Like thee, brave Herkimer!
Who wounded, steedless, still
beside the beech
Cheered on thy men, with sword and
speech,
In grim Oriskany.
But ere the sun went
toward the tardy night,
The Valley then beheld the light
Of freedom's victory;
And wooded Tryon snatched from
British arms
The empire of a million farms�
On bright
Oriskany.
The guns of Stanwix thunder to the skies;
The rescued wilderness replies;
Forth dash the garrison!
And routed Tories, with their savage aids,
Sink reddening
through the sullied shades�
From lost Oriskany. |
By Charles D. Helmer�(1827�1879)
Listed September 26, 2014 |
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