ROLL OF THE KETTLEDRUM 



OR THE 



LAY OF THE LAST CHARGER 



'* You have the Pyrrhic dance, as yet, 

 Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ? 

 Of two such lessons, why forget 



The nobler and the manlier one ? " — Byron. 



One line of swart profiles, and bearded lips 

 dressing, 

 One ridge of bright helmets, one crest of 

 fair plumes, 

 One streak of blue sword-blades all bared for 

 the fleshing. 

 One row of red nostrils that scent battle- 

 fumes. 



Forward ! the trumpets were sounding the 

 charge, 

 The roll of the kettledrum rapidly ran. 

 That music, like wild-fire spreading at large, 

 Madden'd the war-horse as well as the 

 man. 



Forward ! still forward ! we thunder'd along, 

 Steadily, yet, for our strength we were 



nursing ; 



150 



