As we marched along the prairie, creeping, cat-like, from the day, We could see the spotted jaguar, stealing from his human prey, While in flocks the huge, majestic condor with his mighty wings Flapped from his unusual feast, and swept above the plain in rings, Shrieking, as he clove the air, some desperate necromantic charm Over the pale, enchanted bodies that had lost the power of harm. Here and there, as we proceeded, lying wounded in our way We would meet some pallid victim, perishing in the face of day; He was, yesterday, a foeman—now, a helpless, suffering man, And a brother, praying sadly for some good Samaritan: So we bound his wounds and fed him—each one from his little store Taking what his pitying heart would fain have made a great deal more. Hour by hour we marched in silence, throwing out in our advance Daring souls with dauntless hearts, who laughed at lasso, ball and lance, And, as, riding like the wind, one dashed along our serried files, Twice a thousand lips breathed welcome, twice a thousand eyes looked smiles; But at last the tidings reached us that our foes had made a stand Between us and our gallant friends, near the yellow Rio Grande. On we went with bounding hearts till the prairie lay behind. While the tall, swan-like palmetto waved a welcome in the wind; But when we reached the Swamp of Palms,[1] the bristling chapparal, With our foes in solid thousands, rose before us, like a wall; And the dense woods frowned upon us, clothed with centuries of green, Precipitously plunging down the dark and deep ravine. The army paused. A moment, and we passed along the plain, With rapid steps and loud huzzas, defiling by the train, And spreading right and left, marched on, when, ere we fired a shot, Cannon and grape and musket-ball swept through us thick and hot; But we never faltered—never; no; we took their fire, and then, Acknowledging their courtesy, we gave it back like men. But our men, though doing wonders, began to disappear, When RIDGELY thundered with his guns up from the distant rear, And we heard his balls go crashing through the thick palmetto trees, And the shrieks of wounded Mexicans come ringing up the breeze; And we hurried on like maniacs, scarcely stopping to take breath, While every where around us rushed the messengers of death! By this time our brave infantry had reached the chapparal:— Here and there we heard our comrades answering one another’s call; And the sharp crack of their muskets, and the death-cries of their foes, With the constant boom of cannon—Battle’s diapason rose! All was chaos; while, like lightning, sword and lance and bayonet Flashed around, as desperate men in the deadly _mêlée_ met.