The Bloody Grove

The wood was strewn with gray and blue,
The smoke was coiled and looping,
When onward came the foe anew
With shrieking and with whooping

The cannon tore the leafy aisles,
The beeches flew asunder
And tottered through the scanty files
In plunging, crackling thunder.

We knelt beside the fallen trees,
Beside our fallen brothers,—
We thought of others on their knees,
Of darlings and of mothers.

We glanced aloft and bade farewell
To earth, its joy and beauty;
Then made our every bullet tell
For honor and for duty.

The wood was strewn with dying men,
The turf was red and reeking,
When onward came the foe agen
With whooping and with shrieking.
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