'Farewell: I go to find my Love, or die!'
Silent and motionless the legions stand,
By looks examining each-other's heart:
But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds,
Swelling as quickly a terrific roar;
Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds,
A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout,
While every weapon vibrates in the air,
And hisses it's fierce vengeance at the foe.
The righteous cause admits of no delay;
No tardy foot impedes the immediate march:
The Enemy, not taken by surprise,
Wak'd by the watchful fears of conscious guilt,
On their frontiers await the coming foe.
Now at the near approach of threatening Death,
Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart,
Indulges secretly the hopeless wish
For Life, and Peace.... Alas! it cannot be:
To advance is to encounter dreadful danger;
But to recede, inevitable death;
His own associates would deal the blow:
Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain,
The adverse bands in view, and in advance.
Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage,
Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human;
Like that which issues from his hollow throat
Who sleeping bellows in a frightful dream.
More near their glaring eye-balls flashing meet;
Terror and Rage distorting every face,
Inflame each-other into trembling fury.