Classic Poem

I swan! it's pleasant now we've beaten
To think I staid an' seen it through
I haint gin' in to no retreatin',
And I've seen battles more'n two


So now I'm finished and knocked under,
For one leg's gone, an' t' other's lame;
I like to hear them cannon thunder,
To tell the world we've got the game.

But better'n all the fire an flashin'
Down on the Shenandoah route,
Where Phil's a swearin' and a dashin',
Is see'n' them English folks back out

I would ha gi'n a mint o'dollars
Two years ago, to see'em try
With Abr'am's hand gripped in their collars,
How they liked eatin' humble-pie

An' there they set, while we're a grinnin',
And say 'twas all a darned mistake;
That old secesh done all the sinnin',
And they have allers baked our cake.

I sot last night an' heerd the firin'
An see the rockets shoot the dark
And heerd the others all inquirin—
What's happened? Who has hit the mark?

The sick, and lame, and sore, an' sleepy,
They gin a cheer!—twa n't loud I know,
But then it made me kind o' creepy
To hear their voices quaver so

Thinks I, you're shot with English powder,
An' hacked with English swords and guns;
They'll have to lie a little louder
Afore they cheat us knowin' ones


An' now the war's as good as over,
And dead, and lame, an' mourners tell,
It wasn't livin' quite in clover,
For them that lived or them that fell

I kinder guess next time we do it,
Them sassy English folks will find
When we get riled, an' buckle to it,
They won't have time to change their mind!