Charged we at the fort again,
Axes crashed through heart and brain,
Heaps on heaps fell our slain
The red price paying.
We fell as leaves before the gale,
But of the faces pale,
None lived to tell the tale
Of that grim slaying.
The fort was taken at last,
Blood and fire mingling fast,
Death's bitterness was past,
For none were breathing.
Where lay our enemies,
Side by side were swart allies,
Brave and pale-face mingled, lies
Christian and heathen.
This feat of arms that gave
Unto these bravest brave,
Death and a bloody grave,
Is told in story.
All the valour and the might,
Of the pale-face in the fight,
When the story's told aright,
We will share the glory.
A SATIRE.
A HUMBLE IMITATION.
The rage for writing has spread far and wide,
Letters on letters now are multiplied,
And every mortal, who can hold a pen,
Aspires in haste to teach his fellow men.
Paper in wasted reams, and seas of ink.
Prove how they write who never learned to think;
Some who have talents--some who have not sense;
Some who to decency make no pretence;
But, skilled in arts which better men deceive,
They spread the slander which they don't believe.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149