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作曲 : Derek Warfield |
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So that soldierly legend is still on its journey,- |
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That story of Kearny who knew not to yield! |
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‘Twas the day when with Jameson, Berry and Birney, |
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Against twenty thousand he rallied the field. |
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Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose highest, |
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Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf oak and pine, |
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And the aim from the thicket was surest and highest,- |
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No charge like Phil Kearny’s along the whole line. |
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When the battle went ill, and the bravest were solemn, |
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Near the dark Seven Pines, where we still held our ground, |
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He rode down the length of the withering column, |
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And his heart at our war-cry lept up with a bound; |
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He snuffed, like his charger, the wind of the powder,- |
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His sword waved us on and we answered the sign; |
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We cheered as we rushed, but his laugh rang the louder. |
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‘There’s the devil’s own fun, boys, along the whole line!’ |
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How he strode his brown steed! How he saw his blade brighten |
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In the one hand still left,-and the reins in his teeth! |
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He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, |
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But a soldier’s glance shot from his visor beneath. |
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Up came the reserves to the mellay infernal, |
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Asking where to go in-through the clearing or pine? |
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‘O, anywhere! Forward! ‘Tis all the same, Colonel: |
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You’ll find lovely fighting along the whole line!’ |
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Oh, evil the black shroud of night at Chantilly, |
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That hid him from sight of his brave men and tried! |
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Foul, foul speed the bullet that clipped the white lily, |
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The flower of our knighthood, the whole army’s pride! |
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Yet we dream that he still,-in that shadowy region |
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Where the dead form our ranks at the wan drummer’s sign,- |
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Rides on, as of old, down the length of his legion, |
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And the word is still ‘Forward!’ along the whole line. |
