IFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette; Ring me a ball in the glittering spot That shines on his breast like an amulet!" "Ah, Captain! here goes for a fine-drawn bead There's music around when my barrel's in tune!“ Crack! went the rifle, the messenger sped, And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon. "Now, Rifleman, steal through the bushes, and snatch From your victim some trinket to handsel first blood A button, a loop, or that luminous patch That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud.” "O Captain! I staggered, and sunk on my track, When I gazed on the face of that falien vidette; For he looked so like you as he lay on his back, decree; We must bury him here, by the light of the moon! "But, hark! the far bugles their warnings unite; War is a virtue-weakness a sin; There's lurking and loping around us to-night; Load again, Rifleman, keep your hand in!" CHARLES DAWSON SHANLY. D "HOW ARE YOU, SANITARY?" OWN the picket-guarded lane Soldier-like and merry: Phrases such as camps may teach, Sabre-cuts of Saxon speech, Such as "Bully!" "Them's the peach!" "Wade in, Sanitary!" Right and left the caissons drew Squadrons military; Sunburnt men with beards like frieze, Smooth-faced boys, and cries like these,"U. S. San. Com." "That's the cheese!' "Pass in, Sanitary!" When the battle went ill, and the bravest were solemn, Near the dark Seven Pines, where we still held our ground, He rode down the length of the withering column, And his heart at our war-cry leapt up with a bound; He snuffed, like his charger, the wind of our powder,— His sword waved us on and we answered the sign: Lond our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang the louder, "There's the devil's own fun, boys, along the whole line!" How he strode his brown steed! How we saw his blade brighten In the one hand still left, and the reins in his teeth! He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, But a soldier's glance shot from his visor beneath. Up came the reserves to the mellay infernal, Asking where to go in,-through the clearing or pine? "O, anywhere! Forward! "Tis all the same, Colonel: You'll find lovely fighting along the whole line!" O, evil the black shroud of night at Chantilly, pride! Yet we dream that he still,- in that shadowy region Where the dead form their ranks at the wan drum mer's sign,— Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion, For it shone like solid sunshine; and a winding stair of light Wound around it and around it till it wound clear out of sight! "And, behold, as I approached it — with a rapt and dazzled stare, Thinking that I saw old comrades just ascending the great stair, Suddenly the solemn challenge broke of 'Halt!' and "Who goes there?' ‘I'm a friend,' I said, ‘if you are!' 'Then advance, sir, to the Stair!' "I advanced! That sentry, doctor, was Elijah Ballantyne! First of all to fall on Monday, after we had formed the line! 'Welcome, my old Sergeant, welcome! Welcome by that countersign!' And he pointed to the scar there, under this old cloak of mine. "As he grasped my hand I shuddered, thinking only of the grave; But he smiled and pointed upward, with a bright and bloodless glaive: "That's the way, sir, to Headquarters.' 'What Headquarters?' 'Of the Brave!' SHERIDAN'S RIDE. P from the South at break of day And wider still those billows of war As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, But there is a road from Winchester town, And there through the flush of the morning lig' |