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 Duke University Libraries 
 The battle of M 
 Conf Pam q#109 
 
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 attU 0f Manassas, 
 
 BY SUSAN ARCHER TALLEY. 
 
 Now proudly lift, oil, sunny South, 
 
 Your glad, triumphal strains, 
 From fair Virginia's verdant hills, 
 
 To Texas' sandy plains. 
 Now glory to the Southern band 
 
 That swept away their gathered hosts, 
 And laid their banner low ! 
 
 Loug wave our Southern Standard 
 O'er hearts that never yield ; 
 
 Like those who won the victory 
 On proud Manassas' field ! 
 
 The Summer sun rose gloriously 
 
 That peaceful Sabbath mora, 
 O'er wooded hill, and verdant vale, 
 
 And fields of waving corn. 
 No solemn bell was tolling out 
 
 A welcome to the day — 
 But there, upon the teutcd plain, 
 
 Our quiet army lay ; 
 When sudden pc;iled the bugle's blast, 
 
 And rolled the stormy drum, 
 And swiftly ran fr"m man to man, 
 
 " The foe ! they come ! they come !" 
 
 Oh, there were quick and stern commands, 
 
 And hurried mounting then ! 
 Up rose our gwllant officers, 
 
 Upsprang our eager men ! 
 Each heart, alike of young and old, 
 
 Beat high with martial zeal, 
 As we caught upon the distant hills 
 
 The gleam of Yankee steel. 
 And, silently and slowly, 
 
 Our serried ranks fell back ; 
 While onward, marching to their doom. 
 
 They followed in our traek. 
 
 At length our destined point is won — 
 
 The order we obey, 
 And silently our ranks defile, 
 
 And form in war array. 
 There stand* the hoary headed sire 
 
 Beside his stalwart son ; 
 And there the youth, elate as though 
 
 The victory were won ; 
 While on each manly visage. 
 
 In every earnest eye, 
 Is writ the stern resolve, 
 
 To conquer or to die! 
 
 It was a great and glorious sight, 
 
 That dazzling Summer da\ . 
 As face to face those armies stood 
 
 In all their proud array ! 
 There stretched their lines of infantry 
 
 In rows i f glittering steel, 
 And thundering o'er the echoing plains 
 
 Our fiery troopers wheel ; 
 While on each crowded eminence 
 
 We marked with eager eyes. 
 Defended front, and flank, and rear, 
 
 Their boasted batteries. 
 
 Now comes ■ brief, expectant pause - 
 
 A hush of solemn awe — 
 N\ ben sadden from their cannon pealed 
 
 The thunder notes of war! 
 We stood as stony statues stand, 
 
 And scarcely drew a breath. 
 While thick amid our columns flew 
 
 The raessengors of death. 
 We gripped our shcathen sabres, 
 
 We reined our chargers hard — 
 And looked to where brave Johnston stood, 
 And gallant Beauregard. 
 
 Now quick-defiling, right and left, 
 
 Their mfautry came on — 
 When sudden, on our distant flank, 
 
 Out pealed the signal gun ! 
 And as from out the brooding cloud 
 
 The tempest's wrath is poured. 
 So 'mill the whirliug sulphur clouds, 
 
 Our cannon flashed and roared. 
 Rank attcr rank is swept away, 
 
 Yet still their numbers swell — 
 A thousand rushed in the breach 
 
 Where but an hundred fell. 
 
 As pour the angry ocean waves 
 
 On Nova Scotia's banks, 
 So downward rushed that Northern horde 
 
 Upon our serried ranks. 
 As stands against the tempest might, 
 
 Gibraltar's living rock, 
 So stood our gallant Southerners 
 
 To meet the mighty shock. 
 The earth beiu ath us trembled, 
 
 And clouds obscured the sun ; 
 He seemed to pause, and gaze aghast, 
 
 As once at Ajalun. 
 
 Now fast as falling hail-stones — 
 
 Their shot around us pour — 
 With din of rlashiug bayonets, 
 
 And cannon's thundering roar. 
 And thrice their bristling ranks advance, 
 
 Aud thrice before us yield. 
 Till loot to loot, and hand to hand, 
 
 We grappled on the field. 
 They slowly closed around us — 
 
 They wrapped us in their coil ; 
 And Southern blood is poured like rain 
 
 Upon thu Southern soil ! 
 
 Down came their fierce artillery, 
 
 Down came their fiery Zouaves! 
 While two to three, each Southern arm 
 
 A path before him carves. 
 But hark ! the signal of retreat! 
 
 And stubbornly and slow 
 Our gallant remnant backward falls, 
 
 Still fighting as they go; 
 Still fighting— some with mangled hands, 
 
 And some with glazing eyes : 
 Not one of all the dying yields, 
 
 Or of the living, flics. 
 
 Ho ! courage, noble comrades ! 
 
 Not yet the day is lost; 
 For see, upon the dusty hills, 
 
 Yon downward-rushing host! 
 Two weary leagues, that Summer day, 
 
 To the quickly-timing drum. 
 Through blinding dust, and burning heat. 
 
 Unwearicdly they come! 
 Now, "Elkv to the rescue!'' 
 
 No pause of rest they know, 
 But charged with levelled bayonets 
 
 1 |i"ii the shrinking foe ! 
 
 Again in deadly conflict 
 
 Our scattered numbers close; 
 
 When, high above tho battle's din, 
 A mighty shout arose ! 
 
 Now grappled foemen loose their hold, 
 
 And gaze with esger eye; 
 Whose was that signal of defeat? 
 
 And whose the victory? 
 '• Hurra ! hurra !" that mighty shout 
 
 The very skies might stun — 
 " Charge Cavalry ! the day is ours! 
 
 Their batteries are won !" 
 
 With sabres flashing overhead, 
 
 With wildly-flowing rein, 
 A thousand gallant horsemen 
 
 Are thundering o'er the plain. 
 Woe, woe ! unto the Northern hordes 
 
 In that terrific hour ! 
 They fly. as flee the autumn leaves 
 
 Before the tempest's power. 
 Their foot are swept before them, 
 
 And horse and rider reel, 
 As right and left in Southern hands, 
 
 Flashes the Southern steel. 
 
 On, on ! ye gallant victors, 
 
 Aud press your charges hard ; 
 For yonder leads our President, 
 
 Aud noble Beauregard ! 
 "Hurra! for gallant Davis!" 
 
 The dying strain their eyes, 
 And feebly join the mighty shout, 
 
 That rends the very skies. 
 "II tin a !" the foe is vanquished ! 
 Their scattered numbers yield ; 
 And proudly floats our Southern flag 
 
 Above Manassas' field ! 
 
 Oh, God ! it was an awful sight — 
 
 That gory battle-plain, 
 Where hor.-e and rider mingled lay — 
 
 The dying and the slain. 
 There, loeman, gripped in fierce embrace. 
 
 Were lying side by side ; 
 And some had crossed their shattered arms, 
 
 And, calmly smiling, died; 
 And hoary heads, all steeped iu gore, 
 
 Gasped out their latest breath; 
 And near, the lair and youthful lay, 
 
 Still beautiful in death ! 
 
 Wail, wail ! ye Wes.ern matrons — 
 
 Weep, maidens of the North ! 
 Who, in the foul oppressor's cause. 
 
 Have sent your kindred forth 
 And weep, ye Southern women ! 
 
 Your hearts shall vainly yearn, 
 For the manly form and the youthful brow 
 
 That never can return. 
 Yet mourn ye not disconsolate ; 
 
 Their names he ever bright, 
 Who perished in the cause 
 
 Of freedom and of right ! 
 
 Yea, glory to our noble dead 
 
 As to our living brave ! 
 And o'er them may our Southern flag 
 
 Forever proudly wave. 
 Long live our gallant Davis! 
 
 Aud honored ever be 
 Our Johnston and our Jackson, 
 
 Our Beauregard and Lee ! , 
 And glory to the Lord of Hosts, 
 
 Who was our strength and shield. 
 And crushed the tyrant's boasted might, 
 
 On stern Manassas' field. 
 
 RiCHMotio, Auj. 3, 1861. 
 
C ► . 3*"/ 
 
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Hollinger Corp. 
 P H8.5