O Pride of the days in prime of the months <br />Now trebled in great renown, <br />When before the ark of our holy cause <br /> Fell Dagon down- <br />Dagon foredoomed, who, armed and targed, <br />Never his impious heart enlarged <br />Beyond that hour; God walled his power, <br />And there the last invader charged. <br /> <br />He charged, and in that charge condensed <br />His all of hate and all of fire; <br />He sought to blast us in his scorn, <br /> And wither us in his ire. <br />Before him went the shriek of shells- <br />Aerial screamings, taunts and yells; <br />Then the three waves in flashed advance <br />Surged, but were met, and back they set: <br />Pride was repelled by sterner pride, <br />And Right is a strong-hold yet. <br /> <br />Before our lines it seemed a beach <br />Which wild September gales have strown <br />With havoc on wreck, and dashed therewith <br /> Pale crews unknown- <br />Men, arms, and steeds. The evening sun <br />Died on the face of each lifeless one, <br />And died along the winding marge of fight <br /> And searching-parties lone. <br /> <br />Sloped on the hill the mounds were green, <br />Our centre held that place of graves, <br />And some still hold it in their swoon, <br />And over these a glory waves. <br />The warrior-monument, crashed in fight, <br />Shall soar transfigured in loftier light, <br /> A meaning ampler bear; <br />Soldier and priest with hymn and prayer <br />Have laid the stone, and every bone <br /> Shall rest in honor there.<br /><br />Herman Melville<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gettysburg/
