Skip to content
1819–1891

3 P. M.

Herman Melville

The work begins. Light drifts of men thrown forward, fade In skirmish-line along the slope, Where some dislodgments must be made

Ere the stormer with the strong-hold cope. Lew Wallace, moving to retake The heights late lost — ( Herewith a break.

Storms at the West derange the wires. Doubtless, ere morning, we shall hear The end; we look for news to cheer — Let Hope fan all her fires. )

Next day in large bold hand was seen The closing bulletin:

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
3 P. M. · Herman Melville · Poetry Cove