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306 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF
CHARLES DAWSON SHANLY (1811-1875)
CIVIL WAR
" T"~) IFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot J^^ 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 fallen vidette,
For he looked so like you, as he lay on his back, That my heart rose upon me, and masters me yet.
" But I snatched off the trinket,—the locket of gold, An inch from the centre my lead broke its way,
Scarce grazing the picture, so fair to behold, Of a beautiful lady in bridal array." |
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