Classic Poem

So, they will have it!
The Black Witch, (curse on her,)
Always had won her
Greediest demand — for we gave it —
All but our honor!

Thirty hours thundered
Siege-guns and mortars —
(Flames in the quarters!)
One to a hundred
Stood our brave Forters!

No more of parties! —
Let them all moulder —
Here's work that's bolder!
Forward, my hearties!
Shoulder to shoulder.

Sight o'er the trunnion —
Send home the rammer —
Linstock and hammer!
Speak for the Union!
Tones that won't stammer!

Men of Columbia,
Leal hearts from Annan,
Brave lads of Shannon!
We are all one to-day —
On with the cannon!