JOHN BURNS AGAIN. 395 



The fight was over, but victory 

 Didn't perch on the banners of General Lee, 

 AVho bolstered his pistols and sheathed his sword, 

 And getting ahead of his rebel horde 

 They stole — 'twas a way they had — away 

 Through the mountain pass of Monterey, 

 And off to the South-land skurried down, 

 Sick and tired of Gettysburg town. 



And still Burns lay in his lonely ward, 

 Tho' hushed were the guns which so lately roared. 

 Still o'er him the Hither and Yon held strife 

 On the skirmish ground 'twixt death and life, 

 For the wounding bullets the probe withstood. 

 And fever was firing his meagre blood, 

 The rebels around him — the burning pain — 

 The battle echoes had turned his brain. 



He was fighting still in the sultry sun, 



Down by the banks of AVilloughby Run, 



Swathing the rebels with his gun — 



The borrowed gun which this honest man 



"Was worrying how to return again — 



In the gathering smoke and rising noise, 



In the line with the brave Wisconsin boys, 



Again was he coaxing left and right 



His neighbors to get their guns and fight ; 



Again these subterranean dwellers 



Who served their country down in their cellars, 



Rang in his ears their senseless prate, 



" They also serve who watch and wait." 



While this was the loud refrain of some, 



" What would be done if we all left home ? 



Again was he calling them rats and moles. 

 And telling them all to come out of their holes 

 As he did before. And that is why 

 When you talk of Burns they look so shy. 



