The March to the Sea





(December, 1864.)







Not Kenesaw high-arching,

Nor Allatoona's glen--

Though there the graves lie parching--

Stayed Sherman's miles of men;

From charred Atlanta marching

They launched the sword again.

The columns streamed like rivers

Which in their course agree,

And they streamed until their flashing

Met the flashing of the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

That marching to the sea. The brushed the foe before them

(Shall gnats impede the bull?);

Their own good bridges bore them

Over swamps or torrents full,

And the grand pines waving o'er them

Bowed to axes keen and cool.

The columns grooved their channels.

Enforced their own decree,

And their power met nothing larger

Until it met the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

A marching glad and free. Kilpatrick's snare of riders

In zigzags mazed the land,

Perplexed the pale Southsiders

With feints on every hand;

Vague menace awed the hiders

In forts beyond command.

To Sherman's shifting problem

No foeman knew the key;

But onward went the marching

Unpausing to the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

The swinging step was free. The flankers ranged like pigeons

In clouds through field or wood;

The flocks of all those regions,

The herds and horses good,

Poured in and swelled the legions,

For they caught the marching mood.

A volley ahead! They hear it;

And they hear the repartee:

Fighting was but frolic

In that marching to the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

A marching bold and free. All nature felt their coming,

The birds like couriers flew,

And the banners brightly blooming

The slaves by thousands drew,

And they marched beside the drumming,

And they joined the armies blue.

The cocks crowed from the cannon

(Pets named from Grant and Lee),

Plumed fighters and campaigners

In the marching to the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

For every man was free. The foragers through calm lands

Swept in tempest gay,

And they breathed the air of balm-lands

Where rolled savannas lay,

And they helped themselves from farm-lands--

As who should say them nay?

The regiments uproarious

Laughed in Plenty's glee;

And they marched till their broad laughter

Met the laughter of the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

That marching to the sea. The grain of endless acres

Was threshed (as in the East)

By the trampling of the Takers,

Strong march of man and beast;

The flails of those earth-shakers

Left a famine where they ceased.

The arsenals were yielded;

The sword (that was to be),

Arrested in the forging,

Rued that marching to the sea:

It was glorious glad marching,

But ah, the stern decree! For behind they left a wailing,

A terror and a ban,

And blazing cinders sailing,

And houseless households wan,

Wide zones of counties paling,

And towns where maniacs ran.

Was it Treason's retribution--

Necessity the plea?

They will long remember Sherman

And his streaming columns free--

They will long remember Sherman

Marching to the sea.









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