The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1889-05-30

OF fighting record without peer
Hard men. to whom the pang of fear
Is strange as is the pang of death
Unto babe at its first breath!
A boy of ancient Roundhead race,
With more of nerve aud pluck than grace
Combatiye, supple, swift and strong,
Who rocked not whether right or wrong
Take such a boy, o. such breed,
Teach him the warriors cruel creedi
Mate him with soldiers full of scars,
Tough veterans of many wars;
Put him in the campfire ruddy glow
70 hear the war tales there allow,
To learn to worship every name
OF comrade who, they said, g died camel
Or, if your mind is not made up,
Just take a gritty bulldog pup,
And rub his ears and "set him ~
Caress him when his fight is wont
Then you may form some notion clear
OF what it was my lot to hear
When first Joined this fighting band,
And learned what they considered sandI'
do not beast, but I do say
That soon learned the warriors way;
That lessons from those Cannoneers
Sank deep into my tender ears.
4 easy learned to SeOH at harm,
At battles fierce and swift alarm;
l easy learned TO face the foe
And give and take hard blow for blow,
To look uninoved on red hoods flow,
To see with calm and fearless eye
The reeiling scarlet fragments fly
OF stricken fiesh-and soldiers diel
Now, if your fancy still needs help,
Just take playful tiger-wheip,
And let him lick the raw blood hot
From wounds of bayonet, she'll and shot
Or hiss into his eager ear
The savage campfire tales of war,
OF butehered, slain and mangled men,
OF heli's fire come on earth again,
And then imagine if you can
How quick grew from child to man
Among those desperate CannOueers,
Who had more battles than their yearsl
They used to say, The Cubs got sand,
You'll always find him right on hand
In battle, skirmish or affray,
You bet the little euss II stayl"
But you must fully understand
That naught else could be in that band
Of warriors, unto whom the hell
OF powder fame and howl of shell,
And bayonet-plunge and rebel yell.
And rifles crash and hiss Of ball.
And Yolley-smeke's blue. sulphury pail,
And stricken comrades Keeling fail,
And serried blades of cruel steel.
And cannon's Handicapped on peal
That made the firm earth quake and reel.
And dying grosn aud quiE'rin limb,
And crimson eorpses, stark and grim
Wars horror-cup. full to the brim-
Fen nameiess misery OF that den
damned full Of starved and tortured men
Slow numbering rebel prison-pen-
| Were old and stale aud brought no dread;
Who. when they talked about their dead.
| Around their campfires glowing red,
| Had never else than this 10 say
- He faced the foeman as he lay!"
| What wonder if in memory. then,
| / yenerate these deathless men
| Who humored all my boyish pranks,
Aud held me equal in their ranks?
| Who praised me when a fight was done
4 Where had stoutly " served my gum"
| What wonder if as time draws nigh
/ When we must ali lie down and die,
| l take my clock. turn back the hands,
! And try to stop the ebbing sands
| OF life; if l may live once more
| Cine single battle day of yorei
| What wonder if love those men
| Aud call their faces back again,
| Aud speak each name / held so dear
| or every comrade Cannoneer2
No rank had they they fought aud bied,
And heroes died, unsung, unsaid,
Or humbiy mOurned their humble dead.
No pageant followed their poor clay;
A nameless grave right where they lay;