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HOOD'S OLD BRIGADE.
" On the March." By Miss Mollie E. Moore.
'Twas midnight when we built our fires—
We march'd at half-past three! "We know not when our march shall end,
Nor care—we follow Lee ! The starlight gleams on many a crest,
And many a well-tried blade— This handful marching- on the left—
This line is our Brigade!
Our line is short because it's veins
So lavishly have bled ; The missing! Search the countless plains
Whose battles it has led; There are those Georgians on our right,
Their ranks are thinning, too— How in one company, they say,
They now can count but two!
There's not much talking down the lines, Nor shouting down the gloam;
For when the night is 'round us, then We're thinking most of home!