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 The Battle of t 
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 On Munson's heights the Rebel banners wave, 
 Their hungn hosts oar loyal 'c:ions brows, 
 Black muzzled guns from rampxrls gloonrn frown, 
 And threatening silence s.11 press n n storm. 
 
 The new commander, youthful modest hold. 
 From Custis-house bui vej ! the bristling wold. 
 "Here are my countrymen, ami there my foes, 
 " On codfish these were reared, nod COrn-ftd those." 
 
 The Press anil Hankers nitre nir to advance — 
 Two Hundred Thousand rebels at a glance — 
 Strange that all efforts to dislodge them (ail — 
 " tnnihilator of Three armies" quail? 
 
 Numbers are mini', munitions, horses, guns, 
 
 Vasl stores, great love of Union, and the funds, 
 Two Bourbons on my stall' with brains of lead. 
 Our Teamsters steady, fat lieutenant 'lead. 
 
 Nofear of panic can be argued now, 
 
 All further need of drill they disavow" — 
 
 hall my brow adorn, 
 Or, fuss and feathet eat Scotl i>c torn. 
 
 What mi re is nei iceess. 
 
 To free the Blai e hi dreadful k i nog - red 
 Some new idee we want, some lofty thought; 
 
 For " Hearth and Home' the I tllgar foe have fought. 
 
 Union, no longt i serves to steel the heart, 
 Nerve (lie strong arm, and animate eaeh part 
 
 Of this great multitude, they smell the rat, 
 
 Olistinate, stupid fanatics, killed that. 
 
 Ah ! happy thought, sent at the nick of time, 
 
 Watch-word euphoniou m sublime, 
 
 With that to fight on, din of arm- won'1 stun, 
 Thanks' Thanks! great Jovi — "I'll have no more 
 Bulls-run." 
 
 " No more Bnlls-run" anothet such would stop 
 The loan from being ta'en, our only prop, 
 And Dr. Russell's thunder in the Times. 
 Would i e :, Inn st i id « ant of Dim 
 
 ' — what woeful fate is I 
 Rough hands would tear, not gi nl cow i atwine 
 The victoi - arland, which with blush I wear, 
 A brand of Bhame, tot unearned laurels, there. 
 
 (Iiimi al reviews, our hero ordqpi out 
 lliamotle; niiinbers, and with promise stoul 
 To 'stand b\ ilieini: they'll but stand b; him." 
 Gin them the war-cry — points to Munson grim. 
 
 •Shall treason thus dure raise its brazen front, 
 And tl.ii.ni its banners in oar " loyal" face. 
 Shall these starved legions, ragged, mutinous, wild, 
 Hold longer in base I'ear. our " Army grand?" 
 
 " No I hurst the hands, peal forth the anthem loud 
 
 them tie rescued airs, the envied Hag. 
 By loree of numbers we shall win the day, 
 Crush, blot, wipe, squelch the traitors quite away." 
 
 " No more Hull-runs" the bullet hits the mark. 
 The troops delighted Bfaouted it till dark ; 
 Ami Echo taking up the novel strain, 
 Sin i ii front Mnnson's hark to the gain. 
 
 (inward they march, with bated breath, all quiet, 
 Not fearful, no, " We're soldiers and must try it." 
 Some ha l si a n Bethel, and the recollection 
 Gave food fot >1 u reflection. 
 
 " The' re two miles off the light commenced already ! 
 Hark! Horror' Help! they're on us — Bteadj — steady — 
 eh pumpkins, codfish, apple-sauce and chowder, 
 
 We'll eat no more, we'll all he food for powder.'' 
 
 "Only a panic, very trifling matter, 
 A very slight mistake caused all that clatter, 
 A stupid biped, thought a fly a gun, 
 Discharged his piece, and made our horses run." 
 
 "No great harm done, but Fifty Dutch went down — 
 Crimean blunders wrought n great renown: 
 From rebel presses we've pressed out the starch, 
 Bennel will make it bumptious — forward ! march I" 
 
 Not roused by what was greatly feared would make 
 
 theiu. 
 All hopes ran high that by surprise they'd take them, 
 No signs of life, no sentry's step is heard, 
 Crawl, rreep squirm, wriggle, pounce upon the bird. 
 
 Dp the steep hillside, over ditch and mound, 
 The summit gained, Ihej bieathe, and look around, 
 Decamped — sold, — humbug' d, — worse than a Bull-run, 
 Straw, Stove-pips Cannon, ano a Quaker gun. 
 
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